Runemaster
by HapaDoll
Summary: An independent girl falls victim to an ancient curse after a mysterious encounter with its source; a charmed runestone in the woods. Overwhelmed with a newfound thirst for power, The Sons step in, and despite their differences, circumspectly accept her into their covenant to protect both themselves, and her when Chase returns to produce a bloodline of double lineage. ReidღOCღTyler
1. Damage Control

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **1\. Damage Control**

* * *

She _never_ called twice. Not even when she wanted something, which was staggeringly often in fact. For four long rings, Kemp considered simply not answering at all for the second time. Gabi had already given her hell over yesterday's confrontation with their mother and she wasn't up for another episode of _Family Feud_ with either of them.

There was too much left to do before she could even think about relaxing, and it was about that time to start crawling into bed soon if she planned on an early start in the morning. Unfortunately, it must have had some level of importance for Gabi to persist. With a roll of her eyes, she reluctantly answered just before it pushed through to voicemail again.

"Sorry, I was in the shower," she lied. Better a fib than justifying anything to that girl, she came to learn over the years.

The unexpected masculine voice that greeted her in place of her sisters' was one that caught her completely by surprise. It took her off guard, and her heart instinctively hammered a little faster like it does when there might be a dangerous stranger around. Oddly enough, a flood of cliches from every horror movie she'd seen immediately invaded her thoughts as specific examples of what _not_ to do in situations like these.

 **1:** Do not run _up_ the stairs

 **2:** Do not go running into the woods after dark

 **3:** Never look back

A thorough reevaluation of her social life would probably need to be prioritized at a later date if that was where her head went to at the first sign of peril. Duly noted.

By the end of the mystery man's next sentence, it became painfully clear who she had on the other end of the line. It hardly took a genius to match the rhetoric speech to a name, given the widely known reputation associated with him around Spencer. It was also one she recognized as familiar. A reason for the late night intrusion, however, remained punctuated with a big, fat question mark.

"I don't know if I should be picturing a shampoo commercial or a porno, but I'll settle on a mix of both," gibed the rambunctious young man, notorious for testing his limits.

The unwelcome taunts were halted by a large clamor in the background to which he vehemently shushed, like a classroom concealing their mischief from a less observant teacher. He held the phone at a distance, muffling it with his hand in a weak attempt at manners.

"Pretty sure she tried to reach through the phone to murder me," he joked to another guy in the background, like she couldn't hear him perfectly.

Not sure whether she should be relieved or repulsed, she settled on a mixed emotion with strong elements of irritation and impatience. Tonight was not the night for unnecessary distractions. That would have been a great comeback to the inappropriate remark and one-hundred percent deserved had she thought of it a few seconds earlier, but she didn't. This entire conversation had been prepared ahead of time just to mess with her, she was sure of it, and she cursed herself for always being a step behind.

"I hate to break up the party," she interrupted, not sorry at all. "Drunken ramblings are usually amazing, but I'm in the middle of something. What do you want? Where's Gabi? And why do you have her phone?" Kemp questioned, bringing his attention back to her and the point of the conversation _he_ initiated.

"Yeah, as much as I hate to peel you away from _your_ rager," he exaggerated, ragging her for her _exciting_ Friday night 'plans' of not attending the party nearly all their classmates were before he dropped the bomb. "You're going to need to come pick up that trick. She had a meltdown and barricaded herself in my room. Won't come out."

"What?! Why? What happened?! Is she okay?" Something in Kemp switched into protective big-sister mode.

"Chill, rapid fire. She's fine. Or she will be. She just had a little lover's spat with her man is all," explained the handsome blue eyed boy.

"Oh," breathed Kemp, swatting away a brunette strand that had fallen across her eye as she resumed packing up her loudly designed weekender bag.

"What did he say this time?" she added, her worries mostly put to rest by the fact that there have been many fallings-out between the relatively new couple in reference. The dysfunction that defined their almost infantile relationship reassured her that nothing was out of the ordinary, as horrible of a thought that was.

"Fucked if I know! Fucked if I care. What I do know, is I'm pissed to have to deal with this Lifetime drama bullshit at this time of night because that chode decided my party would be the ideal setting for a breakup," the young man's voice could not disguise the cutting scorn of its words or the contempt he harbored for the male in question.

Becoming less amusing to him by the second was the fact that Kemp had somehow turned what was supposed to be a quick call for backup into a full-blown discussion he didn't care to have right now, or ever. Evidently, that's what he got for harassing her earlier. There was a small crease in the space between his eyebrows and he pinched the skin there before Kemp brought him back to reality with her overblown reaction to his previous revelation.

"He _dumped_ her?! You just said you didn't know what happened! What the _hell_?!"

He released his reddening skin, and it snapped back into place, resilient as youth can be. Then with an exasperated groan he answered, "you asked what he _said_. I don't know the exact _vernacular verbiage_ he used to break up with her, I just know that he did. Shit, everybody knows now. He wasn't exactly discreet about it either. And now, she's holed up in _my_ room of all places, crying and carrying on like she owns the damn place. Won't talk to anybody."

"Shit," Kemp exhaled, her packing hand hesitating mid shirt fold. She readjusted the phone to a better place against her ear and weighed all options.

As much as she wanted to ignore the feeling to do good, Kemp could just imagine how much pain Gabi was in at that very moment. Not to mention the utter humiliation she undoubtedly felt, as the younger Berzin was big on social appearances. The part of her that knew Gabi better than anybody had already figured that her brattish sibling was most likely not completely innocent, but no way could she have deserved for it to have gone down in such a public display. Even she would have been hurt by something like that.

It was no secret that they had their problems, and they didn't always get along, but she was still her sister. They always worked together when it mattered. If she were a decent person, she'd do the right thing even if it caused her to focus on somebody else and their needs over her own. To take on a burden and uproot your life for them even though they might never fully appreciate it. It's called being selfless and it's almost as bad for you, if not worse than being completely selfish. Then again, Kemp wasn't exactly known for her good decision making ability.

"I'm coming now."

* * *

Reid navigated the unfamiliar home with relative ease. It was a pretty standard layout for the time period and neighborhood it was built in—historic and affluent, not unlike his own. Only smaller in scale and without the ornate touches of Garwin wealth. Certainly nothing memorable about it.

Upstairs, the doors were kept closed. At first he wasn't sure which room Gabi was in because he hadn't had a chance to 'explore' the bedrooms, but the small gathering of people in one area gave it away like a virgin on prom night. Instead of heading there with a hot brunette in tow, he was preparing to get one _out_. Unbelievable turn of events. Mentally, he praised his parent's decision to give up trying for a girl after he was born. It was not in his nature to be a rescuer nor was he a comforter.

He knocked on the door and announced himself, but Gabi didn't respond. He debated 'unlocking' the handle and barging into the bedroom to check on her with or without her consent, but there were too many people in close proximity who would question it.

To say he wasn't in the mood was one hell of an understatement, but it _was_ his fault it happened _there_. Admittedly, it wasn't the best timing, but the four consecutive shots of Patrón played a part in his earlier thought process. Not enough to be completely intoxicated, but just enough to bring a harsh truth to the surface. That relationship _wasn't_ working. For either of them. You can have someone's best interests in mind but that doesn't mean it won't backfire.

He knocked on the door again. Harder this time and again no response.

"Gabi, you okay?" he asked, still nothing.

There were better ways to spend the remainder of his evening than standing outside Aaron Abbot's bedroom door like a jackass while he and others snickered at Reid's attempts of trying to be a decent guy being shot down.

"My patience is being tried to its limits, Berzin," he snapped, using her last name like a parent does when trying to show a kid how pissed they are. "Are. You. _Okay_? If you don't answer I'm breaking down the door."

"Don't you fucking dare," warned Aaron, just as Gabi's muffled voice came through the heavy door, "Fuck off, Reid! And you can tell Tyler to fuck off too."

Wearing a smirk signaling impending mischief, Aaron made a show of pushing himself away from the wall he'd been against and straightened. Reid swung around with an aggravated shrug, bringing the enemies' two pairs of blue eyes face to face. Both sets blazed with hatred. The other four occupants of the room took a long take of the two men standing very close, confronting one another. Each was breathing harder than they had been earlier, nostrils dilated.

Aaron spoke first. "Doesn't look like she wants to talk to you, _obviously_. Let the adults handle this one."

Incredulous, Reid's pale face enacts a living, breathing question mark. He fires back without thinking, unwilling to bite his tongue. He suddenly wished for Tyler in place of the hot brunette he hoped for. To both back him and talk him down because he'd soon need it. There was only so much Aaron interaction he could tolerate. It was alright when they knew to avoid one another. Tonight's run-in wasn't planned. Shit happens. With alcohol involved, it was always a dangerous combination.

"Like you're doing a better job sitting out here with your thumb up your ass all night bitching and moaning. If one little girl locked in your room is enough to be that big of a killjoy, I think that's the least of your problems."

"Your girl's a cockblock," Aaron deadpanned.

Reid stepped forward, bringing their faces only inches apart. His body became more rigid, more unyielding while Aaron's fists clenched tighter at his sides. The blood flowed more rapidly through his blue veins.

"What's the matter Abbot? Can't get pussy without luring girls to your dungeon?"

"I don't need a bedroom to fuck, dickbag. I need shit from in there."

"What? Your date rape pills?"

The onlookers gasped upon hearing the harsh implication. One of which cursed and immediately tried to be the voice of reason, hoping one of the two foes would respond to her tipsy rationale.

Aaron blinked. He was surprised anything to come from Reid Garwin shocked him anymore. He refused to back down, to stop arguing until his counterpart took a step back from his own aggressive stance. Aaron stood in thought for several seconds, occasionally clasping his hands and cracking his knuckles. A threat came next.

"You and your little friends come to my party and all you guys do is cause a shit storm of problems I shouldn't have to deal with. I let you take a crack at it and you failed, no surprise, but I'm ready for you to get out of my face now. The only reason I'm even tolerating Gabi's drama right now is because she's Kemp's sister. I have no reason to put up with _you_."

The blond enigma showed no sign of feeling any more intimidated by the words.

"Aaron!" warned Jaclyn, speaking again.

Aaron ignored her and the other's attempts to defuse the situation. He was fast losing control, hoping Kemp would show up soon to take the reigns before things escalated beyond words thrown, to punches.

Reid was a provoker by nature. He loved goading people on and Aaron was his favorite target because he made it so easy and got so butthurt over the dumbest things.

"Like you and your little fuck buddy even know what friendship and loyalty are," Reid scoffed, fanning the fire into a blaze when his reference hit a sore spot.

With a look from Aaron who appeared ready to start swinging, Reid was satisfied with its delivery and the effect it had. A nerve had successfully been struck.

"You don't know Kemp," Aaron gritted through clenched teeth.

"You don't know Gabi," Reid countered. "And I'm glad I don't know anyone associated with you. I don't care to."

Reid confused everybody when he suddenly broke eye contact to pull a black leather wallet from his pocket. A MasterCard, a Massachusetts driver's license and some cash spilled to the floor. He pulled out a wrapped condom, holding it up between two fingers.

Reid spoke again. "This is what you want? Here! Wrap that limp dick of yours before you give some poor girl a yeast infection from all that sugar in the apple pies you like sticking it in," then flicked the square package in his face, hard.

Aaron chuckled dangerously, unsmiling. His curly head bowed for a second like a deer signaling it's about to headbutt. Something they do both for play and to assert dominance and submission. With a quick thrust forward, he swung his head like a hammer, making contact with his opponent in a primal imitation of nature.

* * *

Among a decent amount of noise along with the snapping of vines under her weight, Kemp uncrossed her limbs from their awkward position. With a leap, the small girl fearlessly vaulted herself off the lattice. Broken pieces of plant rained down and met her bare feet at the grass, damp from an earlier drizzle.

"Graceful," groaned the similar looking brunette, not looking forward to her own descent.

Her sister smirked, not ashamed. "Right? I'm obviously part cat," Kemp bragged, giving herself a dusting and readjusting the white shorts that rode up. "Okay, your turn."

"You did not make that look easy. Or safe," Gabi voiced her hesitation, outlining what she considered to be a bad idea in spite of beginning the climb down anyway.

"It wasn't."

Before Gabi could draw up an appropriate response, she was jolted out of concentration by a sudden commotion from inside. She nearly fell backwards at the jarring sound of a scuffle. Kemp stepped forward, positioned to catch her sister if she had to. Though both would probably be annihilated from the height, her first instinct would be to make the attempt.

"Throw me your shoes. It's easier to fit your feet into the holes and get a better grip. Just don't let go. You can't fall if you don't let go."

"I can fall if this thing collapses."

Gabi had a point. Those things were built to be a support for climbing plants, not people. It did feel unstable. Though she'd been on top of the structure tons of times with Aaron, they never had reason to test its sides.

The teen kicked off her nude pumps, thankful they were slingback, then put her freed foot into a lower space and _slowly_ began to lower herself. Kemp couldn't hide a snicker, picturing Gabi green, horned and bulgy-eyed as a chameleon cautiously moving one limb at a time.

"Don't be a baby, you're fine," assured Kemp, teasing as an older sibling might.

"Can you stop being a bitch?! I'm fucking scared!"

" _Excuse_ me?!" came Kemp's retort as she gathered the shoes, slipping back into her own sandals. "I'm pretty sure I didn't just drop everything and rush over here for nothing. I'm here to help you."

Gabi groaned with her head against the trellis, not happy with the situation. "I could kill him."

This was _his_ fault. She was so disgusted with _him_ that she hadn't wanted to speak his name. It left a nasty taste. Was it disgust or something else? Hurt? Anger?

"Yeah. You _could_ , but instead you're climbing out a window barefoot in the middle of the night. Either commit and get down here so we can leave, or go back upstairs with no shoes. I'm sorry to tell you there's no third option," urged Kemp, knowing she wouldn't want to go out the front.

Gabi knew she had no better choice. Running away was weak and she berated herself for doing it, but self-preservation demanded it. There was no way she was going to confront her now ex unprepared. She hadn't inherited the same impulsivity Kemp had. She had to gather her feelings so she could come back and say her piece with a clear head. He had to give her that.

It took a few more coaxes from her more daring sister, using her voice as an anchor to guide her closer to the ground. Their exchanges turned from stressed to playful. Soon they were laughing together, caught up in embarrassing memories of their earlier years in Boston. Kemp shared with her some of the jokes kept to her own network of friends. One in particular she hoped would make her feel better about her own situation.

"I've seen a guy get dumped while out to dinner with the girls' parents. Her parents got too involved in the conversation, pointing out everything wrong with him. It was like watching three people take turns kicking a puppy."

"That's horrible!" Gabi sympathized. A chuckle escaped her rose painted lips.

That girl sounded like such a douche it was funny. Maybe she'd someday feel the same. Be able to laugh at how ridiculous this night was. Their secret escape was on another level. It would be a new inside story they'd share, funnier each time they brought it up.

Suddenly she could hear Kemp talking to somebody nearby. A masculine voice. The feeling in her stomach changed. She could have thrown up. It took a few more exchanges to realize it was nobody noteworthy. Relief set in just as anxiety escaped.

"Think he noticed?"

" _Of course_ he noticed! I just had a conversation with him!" Kemp dropped the shoes, tied her long waves into a messy bun. "But don't worry, he doesn't give a shit. He was just trying to smoke a blunt.

She spoke again. "How long did you think we could get away with nobody coming out here? I've been waiting down here for three months," Kemp exaggerated, stepping towards Gabi's skirted bottom. "C'mere my little spider monkey."

She reached around Gabi, locking her arms together. Then she pulled. Kemp and Gabriella Berzin were both cursed with their mother's petite genes and not able to lift much without help. Gabi's hesitation did not make it easier.

"You're literally four feet from the ground. Let the fuck go."

Kemp had her by the waist, struggling to lift her weight. Somehow she managed. Graceless, Gabi finally made it down. She grabbed Kemp and made as if to strangle her, which turned into a hug.

"Thank you," Gabi closed her gray, down-turned eyes.

This was a rare moment for the sisters in recent years. Kemp wrapped her arms tighter to enjoy the feeling of closeness. Knowing it would come to an end of parted ways returning to 'normal', she reluctantly untangled herself. They began the walk for the driveway.

"Pride is one thing you and I always had in common," Kemp laughed, their story already becoming funnier.

"That and our faces."

"Eh, I don't see it," shrugged Kemp.

It was understood how people might see resemblance between the two, having the same coloring. Once you looked past the light eyes, dark hair and fair skin they shared, their features were quite different. A glance at their parents would confirm it. The one who favored their mother in looks, was Gabriella. Their features were more rounded. Broad forehead, full cheeks, a more bulbous nose and rounded jaw. With a wider, flatter nose and rosebud lips, Kemp took after their Baltic father, including in personality to their mother's dismay.

"We liked a lot more of the same things when we were little. Like those stupid games we used to play downstairs," noted Gabi.

The 'downstairs' of their childhood apartment complex in Beacon Hill was Granary Burying Ground, a colonial cemetery and one of Boston's oldest. Growing up next to it, they grew comfortable exploring it as young, curious children. It was spooky, but not enough to deter them from finding a spot to run around and be kids in a concrete jungle. The family sold it in the midst of a separation.

"I remember," laughed Kemp as she undid her hair, letting it fall in layers. "Red Rover, Simon Says, Freeze Dance."

"I don't know why nobody plays them anymore. Like we're too old for them. They'd make wicked fun drinking games."

"I'd be down for drunk Musical Chairs."

Gabi had an idea. "We should play!"

Kemp nodded, surprised by the impulse. "We can set that up for next weekend. Get a bunch of people."

Gabi shook her head. "No, I mean now. Screw everybody. Let's go and do our own thing without friends for once."

"Gabi, it's not that I don't want to, but I have my tours and interviews tomorrow. You know that. Those are _really_ important."

"Those aren't first thing in the morning. You just want to go early. Come on. Pleeease Kemp, I don't want to go home yet."

"I still have things to do and I _cannot_ be late," she couldn't stress it enough.

"You won't be," Gabi said with confidence. "And if you are, I will pay for a train ticket."

"The train actually takes longer. The station is way past dad's place."

Gabi rolled her eyes. "I'll help you pack tonight and wake up with you to help you get ready. One hour tops," she was really pushing for it.

It was one of those nights you didn't want to end because you knew there wouldn't be many more ahead. One hour tops.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I combined the original first and second chapters into one because alone, they were too short and it was bugging the crap outta me. I also renamed it "Damage Control" but the content is the same.**


	2. The Witch Ain't Out Tonight

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **2\. The Witch Ain't Out Tonight**

* * *

The cut over his eye was nasty, but at least it finally stopped bleeding. He just needed to touch it to check for himself if it was actually as bad as it looked in the mirror. It was hard to tell beneath the blood that had dried over the side of his face. It improved with a little soap and water, followed by some topical antiseptic and bacitracin ointment. Reid winced like he had a sudden migraine. The cleaning process hurt like a bitch—more than the impact of the wound itself. Fortunately, Aaron hit like a bitch. It must have been the bastard's ring that caught him.

The distinctive clicking sound of the front door unlocking halted his movements in mid-air for a moment. Then there was the sound of it opening, and slamming again followed by sharp, angry footsteps.

From the bathroom doorway, Tyler spares him a glance with a pointed expression that sends the message _really_ loud and clear without needing to say a word. Reid had a splitting headache to match his lovely mood. And by his expression, it was obvious that he was already one-hundred percent over the conversation before it began, but Tyler either didn't seem to notice or he didn't give a shit.

"You look like a panda."

Reid tried his best to smirk off the weak attempt at an insult, but the fluorescent vanity lights illuminated his injuries, highlighting how shit he really looked.

"I've had worse, and so have you," Reid dismissed as he went to pick everything up and haphazardly shove them back in the already clustered medicine cabinet, lacking any sort of organization.

The younger of the pair remained relentless in his pursuit, refusing to back down tonight. He had a bone to pick with Reid... and he intended to pick. Tyler grills him with a stare that challenges him to try and ignore him, and Reid knows exactly what discussion is about to take place. It's one that he does not care to have now or ever. It was too much to ask for the subject to be dropped and that they simply move on from it. It was astonishing how after all these years Tyler still underestimated his ability to sidestep unwanted conversation, but he chose to bite the bullet on this one. Like a bandage. Just get it over with before Tyler's face got stuck that way. Lord knows Baby Boy had enough difficulty getting women as it was.

"Problem?" Reid's voice dripped with false concern.

His hot-tempered defensiveness ever ready to goad someone into a fight.

"Hell yes..." Tyler didn't know where to begin. "Your level of attention seeking is too damn high. And your egotistical way of making sure everything revolves around you and _your_ timing, even if it has nothing to do with you in the first place is really starting to get old. You're a narcissist, I get that. And that's fine, that's who you are. That's one of the many 'charms' of Reid."

Tyler used air-quotes to get his sarcastic point across. He continued his tirade without missing a beat, surprising himself that he was fully calling Reid out on his bullshit for once. However, not actually saying anything he felt was untrue or unfair.

"But when it starts interfering in other people's lives, that's where I draw the line," Tyler finished.

Reid squared himself back into a position where he could meet Tyler's eye level in the reflection. He tilted his head slowly, with those astonishingly blue eyes locked on his brothers'. They matched each other in color and intensity. Though Reid's expression now was almost emotionless, except for his tensed jaw. A tell-tale sign that he was growing more annoyed though he fought to keep his poker face.

"Feel better now?"

Reid's even voice was so nonchalant—almost condescending, it was cringeworthy. It seemed as though Reid thought Tyler was the foolish one to overreact with no rightful justification to do so. As if Tyler were a petulant child he was allowing throw a tantrum until it was out of his system.

"I won't say I feel worse, but I definitely don't feel any better."

Tyler hadn't visibly relaxed. The tongue-lashing he'd just given his friend was supposed to make him feel better but it hadn't. Best case scenario: he had gone into it hoping to change Reid's perspective but that was a lot to hope for. At the very least he expected _some_ kind of a response.

The most frustrating element of Reid was his sheer lack of accountability in all things self created, but what Tyler didn't recognize was that a person will not feel remorse for something they do not feel responsible for. Especially if he genuinely believes that he has done nothing wrong, such as in this case.

Reid was more self-aware than Tyler gave him credit for. It was the wrong timing, obviously, and maybe he went about it the wrong way, but he did what he believed was a necessary evil and he stood by it one-hundred percent. The last thing he would do was backpedal on something he believed in. Sure, maybe his execution was flawed, but the reasoning behind it was just and selfless. It was meant to be helpful. And he wouldn't apologize for the fact that Tyler's lack of initiative forced him to intervene on his behalf. Tyler wouldn't see it now, but what he did was for his and believe it or not, Gabi's benefit.

"Okay, guess we're having this conversation _right_ now," Reid complained to nobody in particular and braced himself for the hurricane that was about to make landfall.

He turns around to face his roommate, mutters "real fuckin' talk time", and lets him have it. " _You_ were the one constantly whining to me about how shitty your relationship was. Not that everybody couldn't already see it. It was obvious as the balls on a Beagle," he spat and Tyler frowned.

Reid continued, "You were becoming a miserable, unbearable son of a bitch to be around. And this isn't just coming from me. The guys noticed. _Of course_ the nosy ass girls noticed. You weren't _you_. Neither of you were happy or having fun anymore, so what was the point? It's a fucking _high school_ relationship, bro. You'll both get over it. You just can't see past the end of your dick right now. If you're looking for an apology, then I'm sorry for having the balls to do what you were too pussy to do yourself, _Baby Boy_. Somebody had to man up and get it done."

Tyler's facial expressions didn't bother to hide the fact that he didn't particularly care for the blond's unapologetic speech. He quickly shot back, calling him selfish. Reid fired back with his own response. As the conversation developed and escalated, they were both getting angrier and ended up throwing a lot of curses back and forth. Tyler felt as though his entire body were on fire now.

"Screw you, Reid! The idea wasn't wrong, your execution was. _That's_ what I'm trying to say and you just don't get it! There's a thing called _tact_. There's a time and place for everything and you went about it in all the wrong ways. It wasn't appropriate to do it there. What the fuck don't you get about that?!"

"If not now, when?" Reid challenged, laying a reality check the naiveity Tyler displayed. "Because you had _plenty_ of opportunities before tonight, my friend. _You_ kept pussying out and putting it off because it was too hard. You didn't want to deal with it. You didn't want to upset her. It wasn't fair to her at this point. That's all on you."

Tyler's blue eyes widened and his mouth dropped open like a character in a cartoon strip. Sort of gawking at Reid in disbelief. He almost sputtered through his next couple of words.

"Not fair to her? I'm sorry, when did you become king of morality? Because I've never seen you give two shits about a girl's feelings."

"Well she _was_ our friend..." Reid shrugged, knowing that Tyler and Gabi's breakup would affect the friendship she had within their group, if not completely destroy it.

It wouldn't _devestate_ him, but he did consider her a genuine friend. The same as Kate and Sarah.

"If you're so worried about her feelings, then maybe putting her on the spot in front of an audience of gossiping bitches wasn't the best approach, yeah?" Tyler demanded.

 _It was the tequila._

Reid would never openly admit to his part in the mess that night and instead he pushed past his friend, shrugging on the nearest light jacket, dark in color like his mood.

When he saw that Tyler was not going to make a move to stop or question him further, he started for the door, muttering, "I'm done with this back and forth bullshit. I'm not having this conversation anymore".

It was probably wise to remove himself from the equation and he was glad that Tyler had enough sense to not try to stop him. They both needed time away from each other to cool off. Tyler was grateful for a little space—he hated fighting amongst his brothers. It unsettled his stomach in a way that brought him to a physical sickness. Reid usually fed off of confrontation, but he knew in this instance it was smarter to walk away.

He left Tyler with one final piece of advice before disappearing behind the door. Something he firmly believed in, harsh as it came across.

"Don't shit where you eat, little brother."

As Reid stormed down the hallway, he could hear the sounds of their room being torn apart from the inside accompanied by the familiar sense of energy emitting from it and from Tyler.

* * *

Great. She knew what that bag contained.

"You're not seriously going to do rubbings right now," complained Gabi, judgingly eyeing the cloth satchel her sister kept in the trunk for a very specific purpose.

It contained a small block of wax—worn down from the uses it's seen—masking tape and two sheets of lightly wrinked rice paper. A pretty typical starter kit for beginners or weekend hobbyists like Kemp. There was a real interest in history—something that must have been inherited—but she hadn't decided she wanted to pursue a full-fledged career out of it like their mother had when she moved them to Ipswich two years ago.

Winona Berzin had been a homemaker as long as they'd been alive up until recent when she announced she was going back to school, got a bachelor's degree in history, became a professional historian and bought property out there. It was meant to be her first project before she got actual work. A real fixer-upper, nearly two centuries old. Her mid-life crisis as Kemp referred to it.

Kemp grabbed the tactical flashlight their dad had left for her next to the emergency roadside safety kit. He'd always said a good quality light can serve a variety of purposes. His reasonings were centered mainly around self-defence. On strobe function, it could temporarily blind an attacker, work as a signaling device to call for help if lost, or straight-up used as a striking tool or baton.

"Well, I didn't originally plan my night to involve any of this, _Gabi_ ," she answered pointedly, reminding her why they were there in the first place. "I haven't been to this cemetery before, so maybe... _if_ I see an interesting gravestone. I just want to have it on hand in case."

With a groan, Gabi muttered "fine" and followed the path illuminated by the light as they moved together through the heavily wooded and overgrown area until they came to a small clearing up ahead.

"You can be such a weirdo," groused Gabi. "I will never understand your morbid obsession."

"It's not like I exclusively rub graves," Kemp defended.

She wasn't ashamed. She was just feeling awkward to open up about her hobby when she knew how different they were from each other. It was actually a pretty common pastime, but it was also a bit nerdy and not considered "normal" within her age demographic. For all other intents and purposes, she was a typical teenage girl who likes to look pretty, experiment with her looks, dance around in her bedroom to loud music, hang out with her friends and is slightly detached from her family.

Kemp continued in her explanation, "I like all old carvings. Bronze or brass or stone like petroglyphs even. There's so much intricate detail and unique patterns you don't see today where things are just generic and boring. Nothing's one of a kind anymore. You can't go to the mall without seeing another girl wearing the same top from Forever21."

"I guess so."

"Graves are interesting because they tell a story about the person. A person who was living and breathing at one point long before we were even a _thought_. Living life like we are—different but not really. They still had the same basic human instincts we have. Family, love, the will to live. And now they're laying here, long gone while a whole new generation of people are living in the same world without them in it, thinking we're untouchable because we're here now. It's hard enough to even imagine thirty year old us. Fast forward one-hundred years and we'll be laying there while people who aren't even born yet are living their lives. It's a crazy thought."

Every gravestone told somebody's story. It wasn't about being macabre. It was a historic artifact first, and second, a piece of art.

Gabi pondered over her sister's words long and deeply before she responded, "You know, I start to understand your point of view and then you say things like that, that bring everything down. Sometimes your outlook on life is really dark and depressing."

"I know it is!" said Kemp. "I'm not trying to be that way, but that's reality. It's not like I focus on negative things, but I am aware to them."

Sometimes she'd overthink life and existence to the point of anxiety. When the world continued spinning with or without her control, it gave her a sense of unease. She wasn't as afraid of death as she was not doing anything with her life while she was still alive. Regrets were the things that terrified her most.

* * *

It was just after three in the morning, but sleep wasn't on his mind. He'd exhausted himself physically after such a long, rough night, but he couldn't turn off his brain. His body was tired but his mind was racing. Fists doubled, blond hair blowing, he covered ground like a gazelle on the run with his long strides towards no specific destination.

Reid longed for a secret go-to spot for some solitude. Somewhere none of his brothers could find him when he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, but he didn't have that. The closeness of their four families was both a blessing and a curse. He was grateful to have people in his life who unconditionally cared for him despite the numerous times he let them down, but they rarely respected his space. They poked, they pushed, they pried. They were always in each other's business. Sometimes he just wanted to be as physically alone as he felt and they didn't understand that.

At least Reid had enough sense in him to know that he had to get the hell out of there before things escalated further or he and Tyler would show up to school sporting matching bruises. It wouldn't be anything they couldn't overcome after a week or two of ignoring each other until things blew over, but he preferred to avoid fighting with his best friend altogether if he could help it. Even if Baby Boy was being an ungrateful dick and deserved to have some sense knocked into him.

Not until he heard the sound of water flowing over small obstacles did he notice he'd ended up at the riverfront in the center of town. Usually, he was more aware of his surroundings, but he couldn't think past the cyclone in his head. Reid rested his forearms on the rail and leaned forward, taking a look below. Water. That's what he needed right now. It always calmed him.

That nagging voice of Caleb's in his head prodded him and he discreetly did a 360 to make sure no one was within eye-shot. All was deserted at such a late hour, as expected. He lowered his head a moment and lifted it back up after he harnessed the power coursing through his body. It, in and of itself almost made everything feel better. He rotated his arms, facing his palms up as he enjoyed the feeling for a few moments longer than he should have. Unfortunately, Mr. Killjoy himself would undoubtedly have something to say about a use of this magnitude. It was just that, he didn't give a shit what he had to say about it.

"Kiss my ass, Caleb," he said to the dark, readying himself for teleportation.

Reid closed his black eyes and opened them to the ocean. There was something so beautiful about the way the change of scenery unfolded in front of him. Even he had to stop and take it all in. He could only imagine how well it would go over with the ladies if he showed them something like this. But he wasn't _allowed_ to. Not even Pogue was, though he'd been with Kate for two years. Only Caleb could do whatever he wanted for Sarah after she'd been around for all of twenty minutes.

The cold water looked very tempting. He walked towards it. As if the ocean as a whole was a siren, luring him into its depths with its beauty and tranquility. When he reached the flat shorebreak, he quickly removed all his clothes and jumped in the water. The icy temperature stung in a good way. The way it rushed over his aching muscles refreshed him and made him feel as if all his problems and worries went away with it. Swimming when using was incredible and nearly indescribable. It heightened every sense. He could feel every bead, every drop, every molecule.

* * *

"Okay, let's set up here," said Gabi, effectively and smoothly changing the subject.

It may have been juvenile to impulsively initiate a game they hadn't played since they were kids, when they had real responsibilities in the morning, but it was deliciously nostalgic to put everything on hold for a moment to revisit their childhood. Taking them back to a time when the pace of life was slower and everything around you seemed bigger and better from a child's innocent, naive perspective.

However, some things never change and certain traits you never grow out of at any age. Typically, they'd argue first about which game in particular to start with. Then, which one got to play which role. Even when things were smooth between them, they would never outgrow their need to best the other. They settled it like children—a match to their behavior—with their feet in a circle and a counting-out rhyme until Kemp was chosen as The Witch, Gabi taking the role of The Storyteller.

"One o'clock… two o'clock… three o'clock..."

Kemp wandered off as quickly as she could safely navigate through the overgrowth and fallen leaves to find herself a decent hiding spot as Gabi remained on their designated home base, loudly continuing her count to twelve with both hands over her eyes, then finished with a shout, "Midnight! I hope I don't see the witch tonight!"

Gabi opened her eyes, but remained standing in exactly the same position. Almost frozen in place, still like another marble statue in the graveyard until adaptation to the darkness happened and night vision set in. The dilapidated cemetery was quite the sight. The spooky atmosphere a perfect representation for the night's sense of dread and foreboding.

Suddenly, she recalled things much differently. It was _a lot_ scarier than she remembered. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea, she started thinking. Maybe there was a reason it had never been just the two of them playing. There'd always been _somebody_ else. A neighboring kid from another floor or Sam and Anna O'Sullivan from the building across the park. Never had she been all alone. Gabi stood there questioning why she was there. It seriously crossed her mind to text her sister, calling off the game, but it'd been her idea and they were there under her insistence.

Gabi sucked it up and hastily searched within the cemetery's boundaries, hoping to end the game as quickly as possible so they could get out of there or at least be reunited into a group of two, but couldn't spot her sister anywhere and Kemp had yet to find her either. Part of the game was for the 'witch' to find a hiding spot far enough away to remain hidden and able to tag the 'storyteller' or another player before being spotted.

Gabi suspected that Kemp had hidden somewhere just beyond the tree line, because she always played dirty and out of limits. They both had their quirks and iniquities when it came to being team players. Like the amount of bragging that came out of Gabi when she won anything or excelled at something. Kemp was underhanded and Gabi was a sore winner.

Another part of the game was that the person in the role of The Storyteller had to tell a spooky story. Though she felt stupid talking to herself, Gabi generated one of the few urban legends she knew—a popular tale from right there in her home state—and narrated aloud.

"During construction of the Hoosac Tunnel in the eighteen-sixties, a demolitions expert accidentally set off an explosive too early and ended up killing two of his co-workers. He fled town. One year later to the day, his body was found at exactly the same spot where the two men died. By the marks around his neck, they determined he'd been strangled, though they found no footprints, DNA or other clues."

Gabi was so wrapped up scaring herself from her own story, she hadn't paid attention to the direction she'd walked in from. It'd only been about fifty feet that she'd gone past the tree line. She scanned the forest around her and tried to regain her bearings. There was a tall white pine that looked familiar. She tried to backtrack her steps, but it only seemed to lead her deeper into a maze.

With a total wash of terror, she realized she was not only alone and surrounded by woods, but suddenly it seemed much quieter and darker than it had before and she was beginning to panic. She wasn't like Kemp. She did _not_ enjoy being scared. Even Kemp always preferred to be spooked in safe places with no real threat of danger.

"Kemp?!"

She continued to call out for her sister, breaking character, but the only response she received was her own echoed cries.

Gabi clung to her smartphone as a beacon of comfort. A device capable of transmitting signals and tracking locations. It calmed her to know that she was not completely cut off from the borderline of safety and the outside world that was so close yet felt so far away. There was a nearby tower and luckily she still had decent reception along with a nearly full battery. A familiar number was searched, selected and dialed.

As she waited to feel the relief wash over her at the sound of her sister's voice, she got nothing but a dial tone. That hadn't changed the next several attempts after finding her own way back to the car where she waited. Not when their mother tried after Gabi had gone home crying because it'd been hours. And not when the police stepped in after it'd been days.

* * *

 **Author's Note: What did you think of Reid and Tyler's explosive scene? I love highlighting a darker side to characters so I enjoyed writing this err... _interaction_. I tried to keep them as in-character as possible still and I think it's believable as some of the closest relationships are roller coasters! Of course they will overcome it as Reid said, but right now they want to draw dicks on each other's foreheads haha! And some mystery/creep-factor with the Berzin sisters. Their night certainly took a turn. Here is where the supernatural element will step in and connect the sisters to the boys/the Covenant. I can't wait to get into that next!**


	3. Stronger Than the Storm

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **3\. Stronger Than the Storm**

* * *

It doesn't always rain this much in June.

Usually, the sun shines in such a way that the trees which appear to be a mass of multicolored bloom are not obvious until you step into the shade to see things properly. At this time of season, the leaves would be full grown, the flowers blossomed, and the fruit set. Chirping birds and humming bees would go about their daily business in their simple, unhurried lives. But today they're hiding out for safety, taking cover from the wind like everybody else in Ipswich.

There's a chill in the air that makes you think of fall; without the pumpkins and the rich hues of red, orange, yellow, and brown leaves. Jackets, wool socks and boots temporarily emerge from their hiding places in storage until the storm passes and summer is resumed. An odd orange lightning spiderwebs through the sky. It illuminates the darkness looming over Ipswich, blanketing its residents in a breathtaking display of its fiery brightness.

"Everyone keeps telling me that it really, honestly, for real doesn't rain that much in Ipswich, but I've never gotten so much use out of my umbrella," Sarah jokes, shaking it out and folding it up once indoors.

"It's, you know, one of those summer storms. The nature thing," a waiting Kate dismisses it and greets her friend with a smile, sensing nothing out of place.

"But it went from sunny and beautiful all last week to a torrential downpour for four days straight," Sarah's face reflects a bit of her skepticism. "It's starting to feel like Noah's Ark."

"Girl, if we could not have all four seasons in one week, it wouldn't be Mass. You get used to the bipolar weather."

Being from Boston's West End, Sarah was familiar with the erratic climate, but she doubted it was the appropriate explanation in this case. It wasn't the bad weather alone that frightened her―at least not since she was a little kid―so what was the problem? Something in her bones just felt off, but there was nothing concrete to confirm her suspicion. Dread started to slowly creep in though she wouldn't share her more cynical thoughts with Kate. The kind of thoughts that make her heart beat faster, her tongue tingle and her palms sweat in the same way it does when she has _that_ recurring nightmare.

 _What if he's still out there? What if he's back?_

Sarah practices some discreet breathing exercises her therapist showed her to help manage panic attacks as they came on.

 _Don't fight it. Let it roll in and out of your mind._

The logical part of her brain began searching for reasons to rationalize why she was suddenly feeling this way, what exactly brought it on.

It could be an environmental trigger. It stormed like this _that_ night. _That_ night seven months earlier when she and Kate had nearly been killed in a powerplay by Chase as he used them to bait Caleb into surrendering a hereditary power she was previously unaware of. It was the catalyst that eventually destroyed her and Caleb's relationship and strained the girls' friendship without Kate even knowing it.

Because Kate had been unconscious and hadn't actually witnessed anything, Caleb made the executive decision that it was in everyone's best interest to keep things strictly on a need to know basis. A part of Sarah resented him for that. He took away her one confidant. Pogue hadn't been particularly pleased with that decision either, but like Sarah, reluctantly agreed to it after a very long and heated discussion between brothers.

They ended up explaining the chain reaction of events to Kate as a poisonous spider bite resulting in anaphylactic shock, a motorcycle accident by a careless Pogue rushing to Kate's aid, and an accidental fire ignited by lightning hitting ground. As far as Kate was concerned, Chase transferred out due to a family emergency. To Kate, he was still the cute, sweet guy she'd only known briefly. Not the power-hungry, manipulative psycho Sarah knew him to be.

The biggest struggle for Sarah was coming to terms with the aftermath, very much on her own. God knows Caleb tried to be there for her as much as he could and offered support when she needed it, but she had a hard time accepting. He was transparent in answering every possible question she had about himself, the Sons' lineage, and their powers. But it wasn't them or him she was afraid of. It was the seriousness of being preyed upon, being abducted, being _victimized_. Kate was the only other person who could possibly understand, but she was sworn to secrecy. It turned out to be a lot more challenging than she imagined.

It was mentally exhausting to keep up the pretense that everything was fine, especially during the few times Kate innocently brought up Chase's name. Alternately, she knew that Kate would most likely think she were a total loon if she so much as broached the subject anyway. To be fair, if it hadn't happened to her first hand, she wouldn't believe it either.

But it had. And the threat of being followed or watched had been on the front of her mind for a long time after the incident. She was withdrawn, jumpy, paranoid and fearful in the months following. After she decided to seek professional help for "an abduction", things slowly began to improve and she was finally starting to feel more like the old Sarah again.

But just when she thinks she's making some serious progress, this sense of deja vu happens. It hadn't stormed like this since _that_ night.

More doubt crosses Sarah's mind, but she does her best to push it in one side, out the other and focuses her attention on something that catches her eye about Kate. Her friend's left hand is clutching a small paper bag with the top rolled down. Kate shoves her leftover salad container into Sarah's hands.

"Hold this for a sec," Kate says as she pulls two coffee cups from the bag. "Almost forgot. I brought chai. Can't have sweater weather without chai!"

Sarah laughs at her thoughtfulness. Kate really was a sweet girl. The kind of girl who always makes you feel important and essential with her enthusiasm and willingness to involve you. That pretty accurately summed her up. Kate undeniably did her best to stick by her side even when it wasn't convenient for her. Her true colors proved Kate to be a genuine, lifelong friend. Sarah was eternally grateful for that relationship, now more than ever. They even picked up exactly where they left off without any weirdness between them. As if nothing in the world had been amiss.

They trade off salad and tea and begin the walk toward their next shared class: Chemistry. Only a few more weeks and then school would be out until late August at which time they would step in as seniors. It was a crazy thought that Caleb and Pogue's graduation was just around the corner. She thought about it a lot lately. She was really going to miss him―them. At least she'd still have Kate next year. And Tyler. And even Reid.

Sarah thanks Kate for the drink and blows on the mouthpiece before gulping it down, surprising herself by how thirsty she is. The nice, warm temperature brought out the flavor of the spices―ginger, cinnamon, cloves―and it instantly wakes her up, warming her cold chest all the way down her throat to her stomach.

The girls chat amongst themselves, discussing plans for their upcoming summer vacations. Kate would spend the first few weeks with her relatives in Vancouver per their usual family tradition on her mother's side, but she'd be back in no time and demanded Sarah be available for many tanning and shopping dates.

They round the corner to an emptying corridor as students filter into their assigned class rooms and notice the door to the administration office is ajar. Someone small is standing in the doorway, but only the outline of the silhouette is visible from their angle. As they approach, they hear a soft voice say, "thank you Provost".

Kate recognizes it just a moment before Gabi Berzin steps out into the hall a ways ahead of them. She's being escorted out by an attractive older man in a nice navy suit helping with her books.

 _That must be her dad? Dilf!_

This was the first time Kate saw Gabi since the night of Aaron's party when Reid publicly humiliated her. She would be _pissed_ if Reid broke up with her on Pogue's behalf. Kate tried reaching out a couple times to make sure she was doing alright but never received a response so she let that one go. She wasn't sure if it was her place to push. They were friends through their boyfriends, not exactly close enough to overstep boundaries.

Gabi had been out of school all week for good reason. Kate assumed neither Tyler nor Reid were the reason. It was something much worse and far more worrisome: her sister went missing. It happened late last weekend and word spread like wildfire.

Kate hadn't known Kemp well at all. Nothing beyond a casual classmate acquaintance. They shared a few classes but ran in very different social circles so their interactions were limited. Even with that little to go off of, she would never imagine Kemp to be the kind of girl who would run off like this, without a word to her family. The alternative theory going around was that she'd been abducted. It was a scary thought because that kind of thing isn't something you think about in a place like Ipswich. Something like that would threaten their illusion of safety.

As the girls pass each other, Kate's brown eyes are full of concern and take in the washed out appearance of the normally polished girl who she came to know as a friend. Gabi's cheeks aren't rosy, her lips aren't shiny, her hair isn't smooth and her eyes are dark and tired looking instead of their normal radiant. Kate could not pinpoint exactly the emotion on the younger girl's face, but she could only imagine the helplessness their family must be feeling not knowing where Kemp is.

She wants Gabi to feel her support and tries to communicate that in a reassuring smile, but Gabi quickly turns her head in the opposite direction at the last minute.

* * *

Their home is fuller than ever before but not for a joyous family gathering or happy occasion. It's not filled with laughter the way it should be. Instead it's quiet, tense and gloomy all at different times. There's a feeling of disappointment in the air rather than happiness. The noise picks up in the room as the questions start coming.

"Sir, does your daughter have any friends that would come up here for any reason?"

"She does, but not on a school day and not the day she was supposed to be staying with me for a college interview she'd been preparing for the last two weeks. There's just no way. They're all studious kids."

After receiving a panicked call from his estranged wife Winona "Nonnie", Don Berzin jumped on the US-1 N from Boston in the middle of the night and drove the forty-five minute distance in record time, stopping only for tolls.

He'd never stepped foot in the small residential community prior to last Sunday. Never needed to. Their family had no interests in Ipswich until his wife had a mid-life crisis and decided to move his children out to a town she may as well have chosen out of a hat.

He'd been staying there since, with them in their 'new' house. A yellow 19th century colonial Winona bragged about restoring from derelict. Every throw pillow, whimsical figurine, piece of wall decor, and framed photo was very much her taste. It was a home that had zero remnants of his existence. It was difficult for him to be there for many reasons, but their children were far more important than any awkwardness of their deteriorating marriage. Their personal issues would be momentarily pushed aside and he would not return to Boston until his eldest daughter was found and returned home, safe and sound.

When his phone rings, the detective motions for him to go ahead and answer. Don was on and off the phone like a ping-pong ball most of the day fielding concerned calls from family on both sides when Winona found it too difficult to speak to anybody.

The detective shifts his attention to Kemp's sister who he'd picked up earlier from school with the permission of her parents.

In the short car ride back to her home, Gabi learned a few things about the man. His name was Mike Leander. He was from Lynn. He had a perfect record of finding missing persons and safely reuniting families. That was especially reassuring, coming out of a city referred to as "City of Sin" known for its gang violence and high crime rate. He had an air about him that was highly professional and he conducted himself in an all-business manner.

She appreciated his commitment to his job since it involved the well-being of living, breathing individuals, but after a round of idle questioning, his good looks were losing their novelty. Her growing frustration pushes her into defensive mode.

"You already know everything. I've told you everything I can remember. If I knew anything more, believe me, I would tell you because I do _want_ to find my sister."

"Yes, I understand that. This is just a formality when someone goes missing. We have to look at this from all angles. We cannot rule anything out."

Gabi frowns, not liking what it sounded like he was implying. He keeps telling her that he was 'just doing his job'. That may be true, but she hated that automated response from authoritative figures. It was so robotic and detached. Even if he didn't mean it that way, it came across as impersonal and it didn't fit in a situation as serious as this. Their lives weren't just another 'case'. But as time went on―about a half hour of the two of them going back and forth with each other―he softened.

For most of their exchange, Winona was silent, staring idly at a wooden crucifix on the wall with a blank expression. It was hard to tell whether she believed Detective Leander when he gave his best reassurances. Don steps back into the discussion to address a concern.

"I understand that this questioning is standard procedure, but shouldn't you be out there _looking_ for my daughter?!"

Don starts to get upset himself. He regrets the harsh tone but doesn't apologize for it. He knows the police force are doing everything they can, but he hates the thought that they could be wasting precious time that could be spent out looking for Kemp.

He knows the statistics on missing persons. Kids gone for a week have half as good a chance of being found alive. In each passing day her odds of survival decrease, especially in this awful weather. Each day is another day without shelter, without a drink of water or medical attention. Without her inhaler! _Oh God, her asthma_.

"We are looking Mr. Berzin, don't worry," the detective says before turning his words towards Gabi. "It's just that a search in the general area you mentioned you last saw your sister yielded no results. We may have to expand the search."

"May?"

Winona speaks up and they can actually see in her for the first time, the complete realization that her daughter is missing. She is feeling extremely emotional and overwhelmed by this point. Mike picks up the cue, instinctively pulls from his jacket tissues he always keeps on hand and holds them out for her to grab. She dabs at the corners of her eyes with it as Mike softens his earlier choice of words.

" _Are_ going to expand the search, ma'am. We are going to organize a search party today and are asking for the public's help. We are also going to go back in and scour the area with an excess of K-9, including my two dogs who have always found every missing person in my county."

While it should be comforting to hear they had a perfect track record, it didn't seem to make Winona relax. She's worried Kemp might be the one exception, the one who got away and tarnished that reputation. Mike notices Winona regressing into her own thoughts and allows her to have a moment while he shifts his attention back to Gabi.

"It would be very helpful if you could participate, Miss Berzin."

"I don't know if I can go back―"

"Of course you're going," Winona surprises them when she interrupts her daughter. "Why on earth shouldn't you go? We'll all go."

"Are you sure?" Don asks, concerned she may not have the physical or emotional energy for it given her restless nights. Only when she was completely exhausted, did she manage to get some sleep after her body demanded it. "I think you should stay here and get some rest. You've barely slept and it's storming out. Your immune system is down. We don't want you getting sick on top of everything. I'll go with Gabs. She'll be safe with me."

"No, I'm fine. I'm going."

"Mrs. Berzin, your husband's right," Mike interjects. The pair of parents stiffen in unison at the title. An undetectable wince to most, Mike picks up on it from observing their dynamic earlier. "I assure you, we will have a large force looking for your daughter with every resource we have. You should consider staying here in the event Kemp returns on her own. That girl is going to need you when she comes home."

"It's been four days, Detective," she replies with a sullen look on her face. "I've been waiting right here in the living room, praying she'll walk through any moment, jumping to the front door at every sound and it's never her. I don't believe she's just going to come home on her own. She _needs_ us to find her and bring her home. I'm bringing her home."

It was hard to argue with a grieving mother.

* * *

The end of the school day came and went without any major incidences. The boys made plans to meet later at the Colony House to discuss the elephant in the room. They'd all felt the initial surge of power that night/morning after the party. Caleb and Pogue assumed it was one of the others, since Reid and Tyler had visibly been at odds and later confirmed they both used after their dispute.

But it didn't sit right with the two younger boys because they had felt it too. They typically weren't able to feel use within their coven until they'd ascended and neither of them had yet. Caleb and Pogue should have been the only ones able to feel it, if it was _their_ power they'd felt, that is. Though they still weren't talking directly to _each other_ , Reid and Tyler individually brought their concerns to the other two.

And now an innocent girl may be involved. It was too coincidental to ignore. It may very well have been a perfect storm of totally unrelated unfortunate events, and that was what they were hoping for, but it wasn't something they could afford to play around with if the last time taught them anything. They would reconvene and reasses today.

Caleb's everyone's ride, except Tyler. Pogue and Reid trail behind their elder who's pretending to listen to their inane discussion about the video games they just completed and the ones they'd pre-ordered. They're heading over to the Mustang when Kate bumps into them. The four of them huddle into the doorway to the back steps of the student parking lot. It's an awkward place to stop as they end up blocking students who are trying to make a break for their cars.

 _What are the odds,_ Reid thinks sarcastically. He badly wishes he could mind-talk to Pogue right now to remind him they have more important things to do before they allow Kate to talk their ears off. Caleb would have his head if he tried to use there and a text would be just as obvious. So he nudges Pogue instead but just gets shrugged off even though he knows he gets the message.

Kate smiles and doesn't comment on that. If she caught their interaction, she brushed it off. Instead, she says, "I've been meaning to tell you guys, I saw Gabi before third period. I guess she was back in school, but she was leaving again when Sarah and I bumped into her. She looked pretty upset."

Kate is genuinely concerned, but she can't supress the bigger part of her that has a propensity for gossip. If it wasn't such a serious situation, it would be quite the exciting scandal given the way things went down between Tyler and Gabi.

Caleb immediately sympathizes and gives a warm smile to acknowledge that he's heard the upsetting news regarding Tyler's ex-girlfriend's sister. Pogue goes to say something understanding towards Gabi, though she's not present, but is cut off by his younger brother.

"She's young and resilient, she'll get over it."

Kate's head quickly turns to the blond, looking like she's ready to jump at him and take him by surprise. He could be such an insensitive prick sometimes. And he always seemed completely unbothered as well as unapologetic by the rudeness that often came out of his mouth.

"I'm not talking about Tyler. I'm talking about Kemp," she clarifies in case he was just clueless.

"Who says I wasn't?" he responds.

Not clueless, just a genuine prick...

"Wow, you're a horrible person," says Kate, astounded that he could be so uncaring towards a fellow human being in distress.

None of them were fans of anyone who ran in Aaron's inner circle, and that included Kemp, but she would never wish anything bad on her. She'd heard from Gabi that Kemp could often be bitchy and stuck-up, and she believed it if she could get along with a girl like Kira Snider, but she'd never had a negative experience with the girl personally. Unlike Kira, Kemp had never been particularly mean-spirited or directly nasty towards her. She was hardly a friend of hers, but she wasn't exactly a foe either.

"Do you think she's...?" Pogue trails off after a few moments of awkward silence.

Reid makes things uncomfortable once again when he answers, "dead?".

"I was going to say _okay_. Way to jump to the negative," says Pogue.

Caleb agrees. "Yeah, really, Reid. Just don't go near Gabi at all, okay? God knows you aren't the most comforting person to have around."

"Not a problem."

"We actually need to get going," Caleb tells Kate, taking back the reins of the conversation. "We have a family thing to take care of. Shouldn't take too long."

"Not a good or happy thing but necessary thing," Reid adds.

The boys eye each other as if to send signals telepathically. Caleb gives Reid a look that says _don't add_. Pogue sends Caleb a look he hopes sends the message that they are going to have words later. The couple exchange goodbyes and 'I love yous', making plans to meet later for dinner at a new Italian restaurant Kate had been wanting to try. The rest wave their hands at each other in parting before the boys excuse themselves to meet up with Baby Boy before he had a conniption about their lateness.

* * *

No surprise, he's waiting for them as usual. Already had the vault door to the cellar unlocked and the candles lit ceremoniously. Not that he expected any less. Tyler was always the first to show up and the last to leave, unless somebody _else_ with him caused a delay. He could not for the life of him understand how it was such a difficult concept for others to grasp. Punctuality was important to him and he preferred to turn up early for things, despite the fact that he never wore a watch. He didn't need to. His inner clock was always right on schedule.

The rest of his brothers would be arriving together, so the chaos of their three overlapping personalities would more than likely add some unnecessary, additional travel time. Caleb wasn't usually the problem. He was almost as anal about punctuality as he was. It was the other two that were with him.

Tyler looks around the room for the third time, eyeing the rows upon rows of old books as he thinks, _they better hurry their asses up. I'm not going to hang around here all day waiting for them._

He tries to warm and dry himself up by the ring of fire that burns brightly, circling the Book of Damnation―opened to the last page they'd left off on―because the sheer exercise of his own brains was not enough after he'd gotten caught in the rain on his way over.

His ears perk up at the sound of a hushed argument and deadened footsteps which alert him of their arrival. He can't quite make out their muted words enough to understand, but they were obviously male and they were obviously theirs. _Finally_.

Upstairs, the other three bicker about what they should do if Chase really had returned for revenge. Each of them firmly believe their strategy has the best chance of success. Yet none of them can agree on how to handle the situation since their last plan barely worked at all.

"Guys, it's neither here nor there. We don't even know if he's back for sure. So let's just take it one step at a time for now, alright? We can have this discussion later if we need to," says Caleb, satisfied enough with their nods.

Together they descend the stone spiral staircase, keeping close to the wall. Their long shadows precede them, creeping towards Tyler in an almost foreboding way, dense and dark like spectral vapors.

After the steep decline, the stairs level out at the bottom and they're finally all in the same room together. The boys take turns greeting Tyler, including Reid, though it was rudely brief. None of them want to embrace him because he resembles a wet, black kitten and looks just as pissed. Reid makes sure to verbalize the analogy, which doesn't help Tyler's mood but amuses the other two.

"What happened to you, Percy Jackson?" Pogue laughs.

Tyler doesn't bother to hide the annoyance on his features, answering, "my umbrella broke because the wind wouldn't stop blowing it inside out."

"Why didn't you just fix it?" asks Reid, speaking directly to Tyler as if they hadn't been icing each other out all week.

Caleb gives the blond a stern look that crosses into annoyance. He's not an idiot. He knows exactly what Reid means by 'fix' and it bothers him how casually he suggests to use.

"I thought we weren't using right now," Tyler replies with a light upward inflection that seems to indicate a half-question mark at the end.

"We aren't," Caleb rolls his eyes. The attention of the room shifts towards his direction which he takes as his cue to take command. "Alright guys, listen. This should go without saying, but I guess I have to say it again. _Nobody_ use. And I mean not at all."

There's a pause in all speech as they each take a seat around the circle to settle in for the upcoming discussion. Caleb continues and makes eye contact specifically with Reid who sure enough scowls at the implication.

"This isn't about addiction or exposure right now, so quit giving me death glares. This is about a possible threat and we need to be able to clearly identify if somebody else besides one of us is using. We can't be wondering if it's coming from within our circle or not."

Caleb may not always be right, despite what he says to the contrary, but in this instance there was validity in his statement that was difficult to oppose. Reid's natural instinct is to immediately start looking for reasons to disagree with Caleb. Maybe it's the rebellious streak he seemed to be born with or the fact that he couldn't stand being under his bossy brother's thumb, but he had to admit he was right.

"So we're on the same page?"

Caleb looks around the room for confirmation that his speech had its desired effect. Reid nods while Tyler and Pogue verbalize their agreement. It was unanimous.

"So what about Kemp's disappearance? Think it's related?" asks Tyler.

Caleb runs his hand over his face, taking a deep breath, "I honestly don't know. I don't even know which thread to follow. But the timing is just too coincidental to rule out that possibility. We have to keep this on our radar. Maybe see if Gabi's willing to talk to you, see how she's doing and find out if she saw anyone that night."

Reid jumps in, offering his theory. "Or this thing with Kemp could be a red herring we're wasting our time on. Not to be a dick, but what would Chase want with her? There's nothing special about the girl and she has no connection to us other than her sister used to bone Baby Boy." Tyler frowns at the end. Reid continues, "following his MO last time, Gabi should be the target."

"Reid has a point," Pogue agrees. The new subject matter reminds him of what he's been meaning to address with Caleb. "Just about that last part though. Chase went after people we care about."

Reid snickers out loud at this. Pogue basically said none of them cared about the missing girl, yet nobody calls him a dick for it.

"Yes, that was true last time, but we can't kn―"

Pogue abruptly cuts Caleb off mid-sentence. "Chase has a history of going after those closest to us. He went after _both_ our girlfriends to get to us. What makes you think he won't do it again?! Go after Kate again?!"

" _If_ he's back we'll have to keep a closer eye on the girls. _All_ of them. But there's no reason to expose ourselves to anybody who might be on his hit-list."

"Caleb, I'm not letting Kate be a sitting duck again," Pogue shakes his head like he's rebuking the thought away. His mind is made up and there's no room for any negotiating. He won't be swayed by anything Caleb says if it's contrary to what he's decided. "Believe me, I'm not being reckless. I've spent a lot of time thinking about this. If it means keeping her out of danger, I'm not keeping her in the dark this time. That's it."

Caleb tries reeling him back in a little, reminding him that if Kate reacts negatively, not only could she expose them, but they wouldn't be able to protect her if she didn't want them near her. Even Tyler tries interjecting a few times but is ignored completely. Pogue isn't having any of it. He doesn't believe that Kate would ever cast him out like an undesirable, a leper. They'd been through too much for her to turn her back on him completely. He's actually a bit peeved that Caleb expects the worse from her.

"Do you understand how it feels to lie to your girlfriend's face?! No, you don't! Because you've _never_ lied to Sarah. You spilled your guts about the Covenant, about _us_ ," he motions to Reid and Tyler though he honestly forgot they were in the room for a few moments. "And our families before you even knew her for a month! Yet I'm supposed to continuously keep secrets from _my_ girlfriend of two years?! How is that fair?!"

"It's not about being fair, Pogue. I didn't tell Sarah because of some moral dilemma. I had no choice. And I don't know if you've noticed, but Sarah broke up with me because she was so freaked she couldn't handle it."

Reid and Tyler quickly realize they became the third wheel in a two-person argument like children caught in the middle of a bad divorce. Is this what it looks like when they fight? It's awful.

Tyler speaks directly to the blond for the first time all week. "Want a ride?"

Reid nods and goes to stand. "Yes please."

* * *

When they get deep enough into the woods, they unleash the dogs. One of them picks up a trail. Suddenly he stops, sniffs the ground, and heads in a new direction. The other follows suit. Leander loses sight of the dogs and tracks the GPS device on their collars.

When he catches up to Scully and Mulder, his two German Shepherds, they're sniffing a dead deer carcass in a state of decomposition. He normally wouldn't stop them if they decided to eat its remains, but they have to move on. The detective gently nudges them out of the way with his foot. What he notices upon closer examination are the burn marks marring the doe's skin. These burns had passed through the outer layer of fur, the epidermis completely and deep into the dermal layer.

"What the hell..."

Burn marks on fauna weren't unheard of. The typical explanation suggests the animal may have been trying to escape a brush fire. But that was implausible here. It was highly unlikely a fire would have started in such wet conditions. Flooding was more probable.

"Holy shit," comes a voice from behind. It belongs to one of the officers he works with, Wesley, a tall, gangly man who gets excited when he talks about conspiracy theories. "This is a good one for you to put in your file."

"Yeah," Leander responds, not fully paying attention to his co-worker as he examines the scorched flesh.

He takes a few steps back, reaches behind him and pulls out a phone, snapping a few photos for his own documentation. He could revisit that at a later time.

Up ahead the dogs continue their work. Two more trails they pick up guide Leander to more charred wildlife. One's a squirrel with full cheeks like it'd been in the middle of dinner. The other, a pigeon that bizarrely looks like it fell out of the sky that way. With so much death in the area, Leander starts to think he might be recovering rather than rescuing. As in, a body.

The case becomes more frustrating by the minute. The frustration he feels is not an emotion he will allow Kemp's parents to see. He has to appear outwardly put-together at all times, and inspire confidence in those around him in spite of the overwhelming thoughts in his head. They don't need to know that he'd lose sleep that night.

"Ow! I keep getting stuck by branches."

Leander turns his head towards the voice. A young man with curly brown hair peeking through the hood of a windbreaker rubs his cheek with one hand while the other fights off the brush that caught him. His three friends make fun of him rather than help. Typical teens. These are the kids he questioned earlier in school. Friends of Kemp. They were cooperative but not helpful in terms of useful information or new leads.

It's his job to observe, find crucial clues and read between the lines to connect the dots. So he discreetly listens in as they talk amongst themselves of the event, their theories and assumptions in relation to the disappearance. Most of it was nothing he hadn't already heard. Then they segued into irrelevant gossip about people they didn't like, guys that went to school with them. Typical teenaged bullshit.

 _Enough of this Laguna Beach drama_ , he thinks.

He picks up the pace to catch up with his dogs, leaving Aaron, Bordy, Ryan and Kira to their conversation.

* * *

It turned out to be a larger gathering than they anticipated. Winona, Kemp and Gabi were still relatively new in the area and didn't have _that_ many friends, but their grocer, mailman and dentist were only a few who unexpectedly showed up with their families to offer their support. It was touching.

Winona stands in the rain―which finally starts to let up―surrounded by a tight group of supporters who shield her from the local media with umbrellas. Don accompanies her at the vigil and holds an unlit candle. As an English professor skilled with words, he speaks to a reporter on their family's behalf, hoping that a response people want to hear will persuade them to give a little more space.

"The overwhelming support of this community is astounding us. We are actively doing all we can to bring our daughter home safely and are incredibly grateful to everyone who has given freely of their time in assisting us with that. Tonight should be an occasion of hope, faith and love to strengthen resolve to find Kemp. We appreciate your understanding in this difficult time."

The immediate crowd lightly cheers in positive affirmation following his moving speech and proceed with simple dialogues between one another. Kemp's parents speak to a few neighbors and friends who approach them with sympathies and thank them again personally for coming.

Two conversations later, the lightning and thunder stop completely and the rain subsides enough to start the torchlight. It's like Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve when everyone has a candle and the flame spreads out from one central light, person by person, hand to hand. Some place theirs on the ground next to a photo of Kemp. The brightness of the flames reflecting across the wet, blacktop resembles light shining in darkness.

Winona is mesmerized for a moment by the beauty of light and love surrounding her until her younger daughter interrupts her thoughts with a definitive statement she didn't expect.

"Tyler wants to talk. I'm going for a drive with him and I'll be back right after."

"I'm sorry?" says Winona, taken aback.

Gabi's father overhears and tries reasoning with his stubborn teen, telling her, "now's not the best time for that" while gesturing to the candlelight vigil going on around them as if it weren't obvious.

Gabi persists, "I want her to come home too, but me being here or not isn't going to make a difference. Besides, I'm coming straight back. Call me if you hear anything."

With that last hurried piece, Gabi leaves without waiting to see if her parents agree. She's already disappeared within the crowd. Don and Winona exchange looks that say quite clearly, "is this girl serious?".

"Can you believe your daughter?" Winona asks in rhetoric. "How can she even think about boys when her sister's missing?"

Don frowns, "why is she always _my_ daughter whenever she does something stupid?".

"Well I've only ever shown her sacrifice and devotion to others. I don't know where she gets this self-centeredness from but it certainly isn't from me."

Stress makes Winona's words come out harsher than she means them to be, though there really isn't a nice way to say that.

"Really?! Because lack of care for other people's opinions before making decisions sounds more like you," Don retorts, referring to their separation.

"Maybe if you'd shown her a better example of respect towards her mother, she wouldn't be as selfish," she says.

Don finally says what he's been thinking for the past few days, even though he knows it's going to hurt her. "Maybe if you hadn't moved them out to godforsaken nowhere, Kemp wouldn't be missing".

* * *

3 a.m. is the time at which ghosts, witches and demons are said to appear and be at their most powerful. Magic is said to be most used at this time. Ancient witchcraft masters used to perform spells, hexes and other rituals during this hour.

3 a.m. is the time Caleb, Pogue, Reid and Tyler were jolted awake at the same time in a cold sweat. Woken by a feeling of sudden and great power.

3 a.m. is the time the Berzin household received a knock on the front door. When Don and Gabi were both asleep upstairs and Winona answered the door to the word, "mom?".

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please review! And feel free to PM me if you have any questions.**


	4. More Dead Than Alive

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **4\. More Dead Than Alive**

* * *

Doctors are always looking for something physical to blame an ailment on even if it's more on assumption than evidence based. Upon Kemp's admission, the hospital ran every test known to man. Almost everything came back negative with no abnormal findings besides the cat scan and chest x-ray. Those results would be further discussed with patient's family.

Kemp's attending doctor, a white-haired gentleman who walks with both hands in his pockets explains her condition to her mother as best he can with the information he's gathered.

"We might have a few missing pieces and we can't be sure what triggered it exactly, but given her medical history, we believe Kemp suffered an acute asthmatic attack. And because she didn't have her inhaler at the time, it caused hypoxia, which is deprivation of oxygen to the brain. In severe cases, if the airway is constricted enough, it can result in loss of consciousness, anoxic seizure or coma."

The doctor uses a lot of uncertain words such as "might", "may" and "could". There is nothing definitive in his statements. It isn't the most reassuring thing in the world to hear, but some answers are better than none at all.

"So, you think that's what happened to my daughter?" Winona asks, her voice laced with horror at the idea. By now, she's familiar with asthma and how to manage it long-term, but she does not know how to process something to this extent. "You believe she actually had a seizure or was in a _coma_?" She says the word like it's the vilest of profanities.

A nurse comes in to replace the IV bag before it runs dry. Her presence pleasantly interrupts the tense moment. Though she keeps to herself and works quietly in the background so as not to disturb the conversation further.

"I know the word 'coma' sounds very scary, and it is serious, but most people do come out of them," says the doctor, addressing the question.

He hesitates only a moment before he proceeds to describe the part he didn't have a logical answer to.

"We do typically see some levels of brain damage following comas, even in the smallest forms. However, Kemp's CT scan actually showed higher than normal brain activity, which is extremely rare but obviously great news. To be honest, it's what some may consider a 'medical miracle' how exceptionally well she's doing despite not receiving medical attention as long as she did."

Kemp is awake before her eyes open, listening to the nearby voices in the normally quiet room. She stirs, gently, and wishes she could go on sleeping instead, because any attempt at moving results in greater pain, even with the smallest movements. Every part of her petite body aches as if she'd been beaten to a bloody death and cruelly resurrected to suffer eternally. Kemp is hardly aware of the soft whimper she lets out as she squirms to find comfort in the unfamiliar bed.

The feeling of being hovered over forces her weighted eyelids to part. The cool, dry air burns when it hits her eyes, making them watery. It takes a few moments for her vision to adjust through the blur. A slight panic wells in her chest when she doesn't recognize the woman standing directly over her in the unfamiliar setting. She tries to speak, to ask where she is, but her voice doesn't cooperate. The nurse places an insistent hand on her shoulder, tells her to "take it easy" when she resists and calls the doctor over.

"Try to relax, hun. Sit back, take a deep breath," he says.

His care feels more conscientious than the nurse and his touch more gentle, but the contact is still an unpleasant sensation to her skin. He hands her a styrofoam cup filled with water that has settled to lukewarm over the hours of being left out―a temperature she happens to prefer. She drinks deep, enjoying the stream of hydration against her parched throat while the older man introduces himself.

"I'm Dr. Holden, you're at Addison Gilbert Hospital in Gloucester. You had an asthmatic episode, but you're going to be just fine. Look at me for a second."

He shines a light in her eyes as if it were a tiny police helicopter spotlight searching for a perpetrator in a strip of land in a gray lake in the woods. Kemp tries hard to not blink or let her eyes cross like they want to and focuses on the routine questions he asks. _Kemp Olivia Berzin. December 4, 1999. June 2017. Ipswich, Massachusetts._ He seems satisfied with these answers.

She finally notices her mother standing at the other end of the bed, quiet as a mouse. That says something to the extent of her injuries, which is a little alarming in and of itself. Winona Berzin always has an opinion on _something_ and is never afraid to tell you straight forward exactly what she thinks. Moreso as of late.

Kemp tries to send a reassuring smile that communicates she's fine towards her mom who looks as if she's seconds away from bursting into tears again. The last time they'd spoken to each other before her disappearance ended in a screaming match and that made her feel even worse.

The doctor brings her attention back with some good news.

"We're only going to have you here for a few more hours and then we're going to try to get you home so you can sleep in your own bed tonight. How does that sound?" asks Dr. Holden with a kind smile.

As much as she hated hospital, at least she got a doctor with a wonderful bedside manner.

"Home sounds good," she nods in agreement, longing for her percale sheets and body pillows, then sheepishly admits, "I'm just scared of feeling like I felt before. I'm still hurting pretty bad."

When she woke up in the woods, drenched to the bone, she was in an enormous amount of pain. Her nerves felt like they were crawling through her skin, burning with equal amounts of excitement and terror. She'd never felt so close to death and yet so alive. Somehow she stayed conscious enough to make it home and into the car upon her father's insistence before passing out from the pain on the way to the emergency room. The doctors kept her sedated for the past twelve hours, but the last dose was wearing off and the pain is right there waiting.

"Don't worry, dear, we won't discharge you without a goodie bag. There's a 24-hour pharmacy in the lobby. Mom or dad can get that filled for you before you leave. I'll have the nurse give you another dose in your drip for right now."

"Thank you."

The doctor nods and leaves Kemp and her mother alone in the small room. The tears begin to flow, surprisingly on both sides as they finally have a moment to themselves after all the madness of the past week. It's the first time all day a genuine smile appears on her Winona's face.

* * *

It's noon on Friday and Caleb desperately needs the weekend to decompress. But there's just too much going on, too much to take care of before he can shut down his brain and body for a while or even enjoy his last meal at Spencer.

To run down the list: today's the last day for students to clear out their lockers, dorms, etc., graduation rehearsal later that afternoon, the actual ceremony the following day, and now the suspected return of Chase somehow centering around Kemp Berzin's disappearance. The latter obviously higher in priority than the former, needing to be addressed as soon as possible. His brothers were privy to the situation as they'd called one another early that morning to confirm what they had felt around 3 a.m.; a very fierce emission of power.

Although he's been proudly awaiting this day throughout his high school years with his valedictorian speech prepared well ahead of time, he momentarily considers blowing it off so he can devote his energy to something more significant, like protecting his loved ones against a psychotic warlock. He's earned his diploma. He's technically already a graduate. He doesn't _need_ to walk across a stage in a line with hundreds of other students to be one, but a brief recollection of his mother's excitement over her only child graduating summa cum laude has him instantly withdrawing the idea.

Caleb is distracted enough by his overlapping thoughts that he doesn't notice who's stepped into the line behind him until she speaks to him directly.

"Hi Caleb."

God, even the way she says his name gets to him. His attention is on her in two seconds flat. So many emotions break through inside of him. He can actually feel a sense of relief in her presence, even in the smallest interaction. Things have been tense and uncomfortable between them for a while. Neither knew how to act around each other for months, and both did or said things that were probably not the most considerate to the other's feelings. And then weeks of painful silence had gone by. That was even worse. He'd had a lot of unrealistic expectations of her post-breakup, but now, he was just happy to be talking with her again.

The young warlock takes in the sight of his ex queueing up for her own lunch. Apple slices and brie cheese like she always started out with. He responds to her greeting with the warm smile that she originally fell in love with, while he thinks of something to say, but it is Sarah who speaks first.

"Happy to be done?"

Caleb is initially taken aback. For a moment he takes it differently than she intends it. He took it that she was referring to the demise of their relationship, which in retrospect would have been a strange topic to bring up out of the blue. Understanding dawns on him and he feels a little arrogant for expecting himself to be on the forefront of her mind.

"Happy," he agrees with a nod. "Among other things. Bittersweet, as cliche as it is, is the closest word to describe it."

She returns a smile, though he can tell it's a little forced. They're still warming back up to each other, trying to find a new dynamic that works for them. Friendship? Maybe someday. He's hopeful that one day they can return to some kind of normalcy between them. Though if Chase really has returned, he can't have her involved with them at all. At least, not until the immediate danger has passed.

"I can imagine. I'm already freaking out about being a senior next year. We work towards that one goal for so long we forget to appreciate all the good stuff in between. And then it all hits you on your way out," says Sarah, spooning some cottage cheese onto her salad.

"That was a little depressing but insightful," laughs Caleb and he asks her, "are you going to be there tomorrow?".

"Of course," she nods fervently, like she'd be offended if he assumed otherwise. "I'm going with Kate."

He's pretty excited about it, but due to the circumstances, he hides it.

His expression alters into a grimace he hopes she didn't catch when she segues into a topic he doesn't care to discuss. Sarah broaches the subject carefully, in such a way to test the waters. Her brain tells her to leave it alone, not to open that can of worms, but she knows something's off and something is not right. She's so anxious about the possiblities, the what-ifs plaguing her thoughts, she'd rather him confirm or deny her suspicions for her own piece of mind. If Chase was back, as terrifying of a thought that is, she'd rather be prepared instead of blindsided like an ostrich with its head in the sand.

"Can you believe everything that's going on with Gabi's sister? It's all over the news. I want to send flowers or something. I mean, I don't really know either of them very well, but you all are friends with Gabi, right?"

"Friend _ly_ ," he corrects mildly.

Their gang had gotten to know Gabi over the past few months, watched her react to things, learned her general views through conversation, but she was still the girlfriend of Baby Boy who was then brought into the group―not the good friend who happened to later date one of them like Kate.

Gabi was a nice enough girl and Caleb liked her fine, but in the months she and Tyler were together, he couldn't help wonder if she was a good fit for his youngest brother romantically. While it wasn't all on her alone, she just didn't bring out the best in him and vice versa. They all saw through the puppy love for what it was: infatuation. Kate recognized it as well, but being the romantic who bonded with almost every girl they brought around, rooted for them to work their kinks out. Though none of them would have gone as far as Reid had, telling her point blank, "Tyler's been meaning to break up with you".

"Flowers would be a nice gesture. I'm sure she'd like that," he adds.

"I'll drop something off after school."

Though he has eaten not so much as a single bite of his lobster roll, Caleb's stomach drops. He doesn't want the girls interacting with that Kemp girl if Chase is indeed behind her disappearance. He doesn't understand Sarah's incessant need to go out of her way for someone she barely knows, even if she is a friend's sister.

"That's really sweet of you Sarah," says Caleb, trying to validate her efforts while subtly talking her out of it. "But I'm sure their family has a lot going on right now. You should just order an arrangement and have it delivered. I'm sure she wouldn't appreciate that any less."

Sarah feels like she's being patronized and reprimands it with, "I'm not dumb, Caleb".

She knows exactly what he's doing. They may have dated only a short time, but she'd gotten to know him well enough to know his words are always chosen very carefully, especially when it involves the boy's shared "secret".

"There was something different about this storm, like it was different _that_ night," she adds, dropping her voice an octave so that anyone in the area couldn't hear. "Maybe I'm just having irrational flashbacks, maybe this storm was a normal storm, maybe Kemp got lost in the woods, but if something _else_ happened to her, I'm the only other person who can understand."

Fuck him, she had a point. A foolish one, but a valid point nonetheless. A huge part of him wants to argue, to tell her the truth, that she's being dumb, but he knows it won't make a difference. She's determined and isn't going to budge. A part of sweet, mild-mannered Sarah was as stubborn as a mule. It's obvious that she didn't come to ask permission. He almost asks why she bothered telling him at all, but he's glad she did, because at least he could implement a safety measure.

"Fine, but don't tell Kate or she'll want to go. Pogue will freak."

If she was going to be stubborn, she wasn't involving Kate and she wasn't going alone.

* * *

"How... the _hell_... did I get roped into playing chauffeur to Caleb's ex-girlfriend while she visits _your_ ex-girlfriend's sister who we _don't_ know? Explain to me that logic," Reid grumbles.

He grumbles at everything to be grumbled at: Sarah taking too long to choose a damn bouquet, the tight parking at the florists', the car to the left that's angled into their stall, the half hour drive both ways plus traffic, the need to stop for gas along the way, the fact that Caleb's still ordering him around.

Tyler shrugs while explaining, "Caleb and Pogue have rehearsal for tomorrow and we don't."

School was officially out for the summer and there were by far better ways for Reid to spend his free time than babysitting Sarah. She was their friend and he liked her, but this was a major inconvenience. He knew they'd have to look into this thing with Kemp at some point after what he'd woken up to that morning, and he wanted Chase dead for what he'd done to Pogue last time, but having Sarah with them wasn't part of the plan. It was a hindrance. They had an extra person to protect besides themselves if shit hit the fan.

Reid scoffs at the unimaginably backwards concept, "they're not even dating anymore and he's still a pussy whipped bitch for her. It's sad."

Tyler's always uncomfortable talking about people behind their back, even if they are remarks Reid would have no problem reiterating to Caleb's face.

"I don't think this has anything to do with their relationship." Tyler plays devil's advocate for his friend who's not there to speak on his own behalf. "It's just a safety precaution."

"Yeah, I get that. But if I were him I wouldn't ask nicely. There wouldn't be a _discussion_. Here is what would happen, I would _tell_ her she's not going to go, period."

"Girls don't like being told what to do," Tyler states simply, drumming the backs of his fingers on the passenger side window.

Reid doesn't like being told what to do either, yet here they are asking how high the second Caleb says jump. As excited as he was for summer to begin, the real fun would come towards the end when Caleb would be off to become a Harvard yuppie, out of his hair for a semester. He and Tyler would be free to do as they please like the kids whose strict parents were finally out of town.

"They also like pushing our limits." Reid shares his understanding of the opposite sex. "They'll say they want to do something they know we're opposed to just to get a rise out of us. And Caleb's weak response is to give in. I wouldn't indulge that shit for a second."

"You're so caring and sweet, I can't understand why you don't have a girlfriend. Any girl would be lucky to have you."

Reid laughs, totally unbothered by the insult. "Tell that to Cassandra Blakely who more than willingly gave me a handjob under the table in French. Said she wanted to do something daring before graduation. Talk about going out with a bang."

"Classy," snorts Tyler, but he doesn't add anything.

Even though he's thinking of a good retort, it doesn't matter. Everyone knows Reid is very much his own person with his own type and his own dating style who's going to do what he wants. Tyler wouldn't try to force his own viewpoints on him, even if he didn't agree with the kinky, casual sex thing Reid liked so much. They were friends not because of shared principles, they were friends because they didn't have to hide from each other, they could share and trust, and would take a bullet for one another without hesitation. Nothing could drive a wedge between them, not even their vast differences.

"Anyway," says Tyler, changing the subject. "With or without Sarah, we have to find out if Kemp saw Chase and what he wants with her, because he was using when she disappeared and he was using when she reappeared."

Reid's response drips with sarcasm. "Oh yeah, that'll be real subtle. 'Hey Gabi's sister, did you happen to be abducted by a psycho warlock who's obsessed with your sister's ex and his friends, who also happen to be witches? Except we're the nice kind. We won't kill you like he will.'"

"I wouldn't use those words exactly. Again, tact. Don't go in guns blazing, ready to interrogate her. At least I have an excuse to be there, to support Gabi. When she and I talked last night I told her I wanted to be friends, so this is a friendly gesture."

The back door on Reid's side opens before he can respond, but he wasn't going to anyway. He's preoccupied with syncing his phone up with Tyler's Hummer and setting his playlist for the drive. Sarah hops in with a very cheerful looking arrangement of pink roses, pink lilies and pink carnations with a pink ribbon tied into a bow around the acrylic vase. She proudly shows her creation off to the boys, asking them what they think, how they like it. The boys respond simultaneously, overlapping the other with a very polite Tyler-like response and a very sarcastic Reid-like response.

"Yeah, it looks good."

" _Outstanding_! Everybody buckled in? Great, let's roll."

* * *

It would have been a long couple of hours without the distraction. Kemp is grateful for the company while she waits to be discharged. She suggested her family go home and come back after they freshened up and got themselves something to eat. Her parents were reluctant to leave her, but she insisted she was in the safest place possible in the event of another attack and she'd be fine with her friends.

They're killing time listening to music and playing cards up in the room, using spare coins as chips. The room is alive with banter and horseplay.

"Don't play like an asshole," says Bordy, placing his bet.

"I don't play like an asshole," Aaron corrects his friend and raises. "I only play fair. As in kicking everybody else's ass."

Aaron was a confident guy, always so sure of himself. Outwardly at least. Kemp liked to give him a hard time about it, challenge him. It was in her nature to be that way. Perhaps it was the reason their friendship worked―they balanced each other. But it was all in fun on her end because she knew him to have a decent side despite his douchey tendencies.

"Pretty strong words coming from a guy with only two wins under his belt." Kemp jokes like she's one of the guys and raises as well. Kira snickers while filing out a snag in her nail.

"Stronger words from a girl who hasn't won any," came Aaron's retort as he stretches his arms behind his head, waiting for Ryan to make a decision.

"Don't you worry about it." She bluffs with her best attempt at a shit-eating grin as if she's got a good hand but Aaron sees right through it.

Ryan takes a look at his two hole cards a few times, along with the flop and decides to call. It's back to Bordy's turn who instantly folds himself out of the round, then to Aaron again.

"Stop looking at my cards!" Aaron shouts at Kira who keeps inching closer. His hand automatically comes up to wave her off. "I know you're trying to tell Kemp what I got. Don't be a trick."

Aaron and Kira had been friends since elementary when the other kids tried to bully Kira during her ugly-duckling stage and he'd been there ever since from wild parties, starting fights and late-night carousing. He was there when she'd had her heart broken for the first time. Over the years, their relationship developed into a "friends with benefits" situation that had surprisingly remained uncomplicated.

When Kira and Kemp shared a dorm room sophomore year, he hadn't expected the two to take such a liking to each other given Kira's difficulty making female friends. It didn't immediately start on a good note, but it quickly blossomed. They had too much fun ganging up on him sometimes, and it could be pretty annoying, but in most cases it was warranted.

"If you didn't wave them around so much it wouldn't be so easy," Kira shrugs. "Your own fault for not hiding your cards better."

"I don't need her to help me cheat," says Kemp. "Your poker face is for shit."

"Maybe that's just what I want you guys to think." Aaron smirks and he raises again. Kemp raises right back, pretending she isn't a total novice to poker.

Ryan drops his cards like they just spontaneously combusted into a ball of fire and burnt him, muttering, "2-7 offsuit" while everybody else snickers.

Aaron howls with laughter over Ryan's terrible hand, exclaiming, "why didn't you fold a long time ago, you moron?!".

Ryan shakes his head and sits back, watching the game play out between Aaron and Kemp. Aaron has a royal flush. He's knows it's more than enough to beat Kemp's hand, because despite the trash talk, she can't keep her own poker face to save her life. The competitive streak in him wants to claim the winnings, even if it's just for bragging rights. Instead, he throws down his cards without turning them up, announcing that he too folds.

"How do you expect to win against us at pool if you can't even beat a girl at poker?" Reid announces his presence. No hello. No how are you? No greeting at all. No _manners_.

The light-hearted mood immediately changes as Aaron's eyes darken and his more primal side emerges.

"The hell are _you_ doing here?" Aaron demands, sounding rude and accusatory.

Sarah takes it upon herself to break up the tension before the dark atmosphere has an effect on her as well. She knows the hateful glare from Aaron and Kira is mostly directed towards Reid anyway, so she crosses the distance between them towards Kemp's bedside.

"We came to bring you these flowers and to say we hope you feel better soon. I think we have a few classes together, but we've never been properly introduced. I'm Sarah."

Kemp knows who Sarah is. The blonde girl's named popped up in the local paper last fall when she was abducted by a fellow student. What she doesn't know is why she's in her hospital room. Moreover, why she's there with the younger half of The Sons. To say she's in shock would be an understatement. Their friends couldn't stand each other and they weren't even friends themselves. Her sister ran with their group for a few months while dating the Simms kid, but she and Gabi always went in different directions socially.

All Kemp can think to say is a simple "thank you" and reciprocate the introduction with a smile on her face.

"Yeah, of course."

Sarah adjusts the bouquet on the bedside table so it sits at its best angle. All the perfectly erect flowers facing out. She's taking in Kemp's weathered appearance and finds similarities between their situations with sympathy. She raises a few too many concerned questions right away and says the whole "if you ever need to talk" thing. Tyler clears his throat, hoping it'll remind Sarah to dial it back a little.

"Do you guys need to be invited in like vampires? You don't need to stand in the doorway," Kemp says to Reid and Tyler who still hadn't moved, slightly annoyed by their presence but trying to be polite. She wasn't loving the attitude they brought with them.

Reid scoffs, "no, we're definitely not _vampires_ ," and receives a discreet nudge from his brother.

" _You_ can come in," Aaron says to Sarah then addresses the guys she came with. "You two, don't let the door hit you on your way out."

"No can do, Abbott." Reid just walks in inspecting the room as if he's looking for something to steal and posts up against the counter with the sink. He pushes the water pitcher in, away from the edge. "We came to escort this lovely lady here today, not drop her off at daycare."

As much as Reid didn't want to be there, especially after he saw Aaron and his posse, there was no way they were leaving Sarah unattended. He and Tyler felt horrible for what happened the last time. It was surprising Caleb even entrusted her with them again, but nothing like that would happen again on their watch.

Another top priority for their visit was to find out what they could about Chase's return: if Kemp had a direct encounter with him, if she remembered seeing anyone strange at all. Then Aaron fucking Abbott of all people just _had_ to be there, with Kira of course. He knew they were friends of hers, but he was highly annoyed that their paths had to cross there. How were they supposed to poke around with a hostile audience watching their every move? Maybe if he fucked with them enough they'd leave.

Before Aaron can respond, Kira's up, out of her seat. One down. That was easier than Reid expected. His mere presence chased her off like he was going to give her ebola. She hated him that much.

"It's starting to get really crowded in here and I don't like it," she sneers. "I'm going to the cafeteria. You want anything?"

The question is clearly meant for Kemp, but Reid speaks just to hear the sound of his own voice and to be a smartass.

"Coffee. You know how I take it."

Now she's ready to strangle him and it shows between her eyebrows.

Aaron intercedes, "how 'bout we _take_ this outside?", rising to meet face to face with Reid.

Aaron turns into such a ugly person around The Sons, especially the loud-mouthed blond one that seemingly lived to push people's buttons. The loud mouth speaks again.

"I'm just too damn lazy to walk that far so I guess we'll have to do it here."

Ryan encourages Aaron to teach Reid some respect while Bordy and Tyler try to talk their friends down, both saying how it's not worth it. Kira's already stormed out of the room. Sarah speaks on Kemp's behalf from a girl's perspective, saying what she's thinking.

 _How can they possibly think it's a good idea to bring this kind of negativity around her right now? How insensitive, mindless, disrespectful can these idiots be?_

"Can somebody do something please, before all hell breaks loose?" Sarah swallows, suddenly feeling responsible for bringing the tornado with her. She may not like Aaron, his boys and Kira either, but at least she knew how to act right for a few minutes.

Irritation is growing, patience is thinning. Very soon, tempers will be flaring, fists flying and blows exchanging. The boys are close to combustion. The scene is frighteningly similar to their last encounter. And just then, the pitcher topples over, releasing a waterfall across the counter and floor, soaking both boys from waist to foot.

Everyone else is distracted by the commotion except for the two youngest Sons. Aaron's yelling about his wet crotch while Reid and Tyler watch Kemp's eyes turn back to green.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I want to address the fact that I made the timeline present-day, rather than 2006 when The Covenant came out. I'd love feedback on that because** **I was torn.** **If it was off-putting, I have no problem revising it. Other than that, I had _so_ much fun writing this chapter! I hope you're as stoked as I am for the next. Thank you readers, those who favorited(sp?), followed and  bjq and AliH1 for reviewing!**


	5. It Followed Me Home, Can I Keep It?

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **5\. It Followed Me Home, Can I Keep It?**

* * *

This whole new piece of information shook them. It wasn't impossible—nothing was completely out of their realm of understanding, but it seemed implausible. They knew witchcraft was still a living reality for many and not just a superstition. There were stories of other families, other covens around the globe; but like their own, it was well-guarded and kept out of sight. It's a bit like fight club: you don't talk about it.

"How sure are you?" Caleb asks, running a finger along the cleft of his brow.

Reid's surer than sure. "Hundred percent".

"He's not lying, Caleb," adds Tyler. He shares a look with the blond as he paces between the two. "I even felt it in the hallway on the way to her room, but I didn't say anything because Sarah was right there. I didn't want to freak her out."

Caleb chuckles to himself, but there's no mirth to it. All he can do is wonder how he's supposed to respond. Their discussions are usually a lovely group endeavor of four clashing opinions, but this time everyone looks to him for answers to different questions. It's an eerily quiet night, like a bomb just went off and leveled their part of the world. And hell, it kind of did. Never thought he'd actually welcome Reid's bull in a china shop thinking or Pogue and Tyler jumping in to give their two cents.

Standing straight, his mouth opens a few times like he's got something to say, but nothing comes out, and he closes it again. As if repeating this process would somehow kick-start his brain into working well enough to figure out a possible solution. All he can come up with is the simplest and most obvious.

"We need to talk to her."

Reid nods, surprisingly in agreement without a fight. He's always been the shoot first, ask questions later type. Caleb got it right this time. It was no use to bother with subtlety. They were going straight to the source. If Kemp was a witch and they confronted her with their knowledge, she couldn't expose them without exposing herself. They had her in a corner.

"Maybe we should check the book first," suggests Tyler. That was always their go-to.

Caleb verbally disagrees. They're not wasting time re-reading the Book of Damnation when they already know there's nothing in there about women ever having power, at least not in their lines. As far back as their ancestries can be traced, it's only ever been passed onto the first born male of each generation, no exceptions. That wasn't to say that other families didn't inherit their power differently, but they would have no knowledge of that. Their book was specific to Danvers, Parry, Garwin and Simms lineage.

"I already have a whole list of questions I want to ask," Caleb adds.

He spins around and faces Reid and Tyler's desktop computer, camouflaged under a sea of throwaway papers and empty cans of Red Bull. He mentally structures the message he'll send, which he will do from his own laptop during the time he set aside to tweak his valedictorian speech for the fifth time. It will be clear and direct without any damning specifics. No wishy-washy or ambiguous language to be lost in translation.

"Same," Pogue agrees, admitting that he's still uneasy about the whole thing. "I won't be able to relax until I know she's not a threat. If Reid and Ty confirmed she's got _some_ kind of power, it's no use researching when we can get answers straight from the horse's mouth."

There's a sense of urgency to confirm that Kemp isn't another addict with an agenda. The amount of power generated in the past week raised more than a few red flags. They now know who's behind it, but they still don't understand why it surfaced in such strength and so suddenly. She wasn't a mysterious new girl who dropped in to stir things up; she'd been in Ipswich for a couple years. Why now?

"I'm going to reach out to her tonight," says Caleb.

Tyler shakes his head and tells them to give her some space. She's still a person with a life, as much as they are. A heavily medicated person who was just laying in a hospital bed with an IV running out of her arm last they saw only a few hours ago.

"She's just getting discharged tonight after going into an asthma induced _coma_." He checks the time on his phone. It's already eight o' clock. "She's probably only getting home now. Give her a day to recover, Caleb..."

They all know Caleb is going to do what he wants or believes is right no matter who likes it or not, except Pogue and Reid seem to be fully on board as well. None of them consider sensitivity for this girl or seem to show sympathy for the very real trauma she just endured. It seemed Tyler was the only one with any compassion.

"I don't expect her to respond right away, that's fine. I'll just get the ball rolling on our end and figure out how to make a meet-up happen. We'll find a mutual time and place we all feel comfortable, where we can all sit down and talk this through in a civilized manner so it doesn't seem like a witch-hunt."

"Don't worry, Baby Boy, we're not going to banish her from whence she came―we just want to know how the hell she got her power," says Reid. His baby blues dart around from behind his shield of bangs. "Unless she's a psycho witch with a capital B. Then we'll banish her ass."

Tyler rolls his eyes and blocks a playful nudge from his friend. There's numerous more insults and cusswords thrown between the rambunctious group of boys. Since they couldn't do anything about the moot case until a later time, the conversation shifts over to graduation.

Tomorrow was going to be full day for all of them. Hell, tonight alone there were still a number of things that needed to get done. Things they'd procrastinated until the very last minute. Reid and Tyler needed to box up their stuff, clean up and check-out by 4:00 PM the next day. That meant opting out of any Friday night plans, but it was alright since tomorrow night's the real party.

"Alright boys, get the hell out, we need to pack our crap. Say your last goodbyes to the Deflower Shop," Reid motions to the bedroom with a dirty smirk on his face as he more or less pushes his two eldest friends out the door. "Caleb, make whatever revisions you need to make on the speech nobody will even remember in a week. Pogue, go bang the shit out of Kate while you're still in the same zip code."

Pogue flips him off with the arm that's not around Caleb's shoulders and hollers, "see you fellas tomorrow!"

Reid chuckles. He's giddy as a schoolboy on the first day of summer vacation, which is exactly what he is. They've sure had some good times in junior year, and he can't wait to make more memories this year.

* * *

It felt good to be home. Had she really been gone only a week? Seems as if it had been months. All was dark and silent in the Berzin residence when Kemp enters through the front door of the cozy, deserted house, kicking her shoes off on the mat. Her parents follow closely behind and do the same.

They'd been watching her like a hawk all thirty minutes of the ride back from Gloucester. Between rear-view mirror glances and quick double takes to assure she hadn't disappeared from the backseat in the style of some campy urban legend, they were reluctant to let her out of sight. It felt nice to be fawned over to that degree. They'd cared for bloody noses, stomach flus, colds and everything in between, but the severity of this situation and their response to it went beyond any of it. She felt loved. And safe. Especially with a man in the house again. After everything, having mom and dad there together was a treat.

"Why is it so dark in here?" Winona asks, feeling for a switch.

"Because the lights aren't on," Don replies with a slight smile.

Winona rolls her eyes, turns on a couple of lights and says, "Gabi usually leaves every light and TV in the house on. The electric bill is too high! Where is she anyway?"

Kemp winces out of sensitivity at the sudden brightness, almost losing her balance, but her dad steadies her by gently gripping her shoulders. The small touch bears a resemblance to a branding iron, but she doesn't complain out loud to raise more concern.

"Out with some girl friends. To a pool hall," came Don's answer as he shrugs out of his black hoodie.

 _Is that what Gabi sugarcoated it as?_ Kemp thinks, their parents would _not_ like that. _Nicky's is a straight-up bar. A bar with loads of older guys, that gets pretty rowdy on weekends._

"Seriously?!" Winona starts off a verbal tennis match. "She never mentioned a thing to me... Neither of you thought to let me know?! I've got one daughter _missing_... for days! And the other one thinks it's okay to go gallivanting around town without checking in with me first?! You guys are unbelievable."

"What the hell do you mean 'you guys'? How was I supposed to know she didn't already clear it with you? You don't get to blame me for you not raising her to be accountable."

" _I'm_ raising our daughter?! Just me?"

"Well, you kind of built this whole world without me in it, in Ipswich. Your house, your rules, your system. You've made me the weekend dad."

As quickly as the nostalgia overcame Kemp with potential hope, they remind her why they separated. She's not up for their nonsense after the day she's had.

"I'll be in my room if anyone needs me," she says over her shoulder. The pair are reminded they're parents and pause their argument to call after her with concern, but she chases them away with a wave of her hand. "I feel fine. I just want to shower and get in bed."

"Okay, call us if you need anything," says her mother, reluctant to let her go on her own. "I'm going to heat up something for dinner."

 _Great, that means gluten free, corn free, soy free, lactose free and taste free. Maybe if I'm starving, mom's cooking will taste better._

After one last glance, she leaves the room and heads to the upstairs shared bathroom. She closes the door, so she can't hear whatever crap the two adults are chastising each other with and strips, putting her dirty clothing into the overflowing hamper. Looks like her mom neglected the housework in her absence, and Gabi was never any help with that kind of thing.

Speaking of Gabi, all her hair stuff and makeup is dumped out onto the counter amongst the thousands of bobby pins strewn about. Kemp's got half a mind to swipe her arm across the surface, knocking everything off to give herself some room because she's tired of fighting for the sink space.

Instead, she examines her naked body in the mirror as far as it'll show her. This time she's not sizing up how small her breasts are, how high and wide her hips sit or how flat her stomach looks―she's checking to see if anything's changed to reflect the way her insides are feeling; different. If there's any discernible differences in her appearance from the outside. There isn't. She looks exactly the same. Same small boobs, flabby stomach and violin hips. Except her hair's greasier than she'd normally ever allow it to be and she can just _feel_ the clogged pores on her face. She's desperate for a good shower.

Kemp gets under the water with her whole body, head and all. The temperature is still cool as the heat hasn't quite made it all the way up through the old pipes. Even then, her skin feels like it could burst open at any minute with the high water pressure.

She closes her eyes, imagining the discomfort away, trying to focus on anything else as she lathers up. There's a burst of energy bubbling up in her veins like a shot of adrenaline into her bloodstream and it steadily rises until it peaks. Through her chest, radiating up through her neck and head. It's so strong and sudden, and the pain is gone like a switch flipped. The oxygen in each breath now seems more plentiful. The water cascading over her body makes everything feel simple, clean and healing.

She feels completely alive, where every sense is heightened and magnified. She feels it in her fingers, in her toes, in every bone and joint of her body. The scent of her pineapple, clementine shampoo is more exotic. The sound of the streaming water reverberates. Every sight is lush. Everything seems to suddenly pop into clear focus. It's like she's living in HD; the world on a giant flat screen TV. Everything seems more crystal clear than she ever knew, even her hand in front of her face. So rich in detail. Colors are especially bright and vivid.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asks herself out loud, still staring at her raised hand.

Something wasn't right, but she couldn't figure out what it was. She's starting to think the ordeal left her more damaged than she originally thought and it terrifies her.

* * *

Pogue appears thrilled to death to have Kate in his arms and he shows it by showering her with sweet kisses and deep affection. He makes it a point to ensure that she feels his entire attention is hers and she does. It makes her feel as if she's the most beautiful, important girl in his world and she is.

He wants her to stay over more than she possibly knows, asks her a few times with puppy dog eyes and sexy pouts, changing tactics each time, but she refuses politely enough. He knows her so well just like the back of his own hand, knows how to get to her heartstrings, which to pull and which to preserve just like he's got all the most sensitive and intimate spots of her body memorized. He could bring her to her knees if he wanted to, but sometimes she could be so stubborn. It frustrated him endlessly but ironically was also one of the things that initially attracted him to her.

"Babe," she says, holding onto either side of his face affectionately. The contrast of her silky smooth skin against the rough stubble of his jawline feels like night and day, like summer and winter. "Believe me, I would love nothing more than to have a naked slumber party with you, but you have to leave extra early tomorrow and I'm heading down later with Sarah. It just makes the most sense."

He sighs because she's got a point, but he wants her to be reckless and impulsive for once. Wordlessly, he brings her left hand down towards his mouth to place a light as a feather kiss into her palm. Soft and gentle, like his feelings for her. He doesn't speak or voice his disappointment, but it's there and she knows him well enough to see it written on his handsome features. Especially since similar emotions have been plaguing her for weeks.

It's been wearing on her to know that in a few months they'd be at different schools, in different states, and meeting different people. They'd sat down together, brought their concerns and insecurities to the other, have also had many long talks on the matter like a mature couple. It was adamantly agreed to on both ends that they'd stay together through the distance because it's not about who lives close to you, it's about who is close to your heart. However, it was by no means ideal. She was going to miss the hell out of him. And she was about to be away in another country for three weeks. Just thinking about it all made her blue like a lovesick Cookie Monster.

"Besides," she tries, convincing herself just as well as him. "It's not like Sarah can stay at her own house. It's way too far to just go and come right back. I don't want to leave her alone in our empty room all night. Check-out isn't even until tomorrow, but the dorms are already mostly abandoned. It's super creepy right now."

"Yeah, the dorms are definitely haunted," he agrees with a light chuckle, more for her than himself.

Spenser was one of the oldest high schools in the United States, along with several others in Massachusetts. It was built in 1648, almost as old as Harvard. Though the buildings were impressive to look at during the day, the dorms were creepy as hell at night and wasn't one of his top places to be on their beautiful campus.

It was one reason he opted for his own place senior year. That and privacy, which was a commodity almost as valuable as shimmering rubies around the Parry home between his parents and sisters. He had wanted his own space and independence, even the responsibilities of cooking and cleaning after himself, laundering his own clothes, and being accountable for his own punctuality. It actually prepared him for college life where it would mark the beginning of the real thing, the real deal: adulting.

Pogue adds to his previous statement that "most people usually move out early and stay at home the last few days. It's easier than rushing around. But I get it, she doesn't have a home to go to in Ipswich and you want to be there for your friend.".

Pogue liked Sarah a lot, and he loved that Kate had a friend in her, but a slight ripple of jealousy ran through him at the thought of Kate choosing her over him. It was stupid really. He was secure with himself and their relationship for the most part, not much the possessive type, and obviously Sarah wasn't a threat, but sometimes Kate made him feel like he had to compete for her attention while he showered her with his. It wasn't a good feeling. It was as if she were unable to put herself in his shoes or comprehend that sometimes men have the same emotional needs as women.

"I know the timing is a little crummy, but my trip is only a few weeks," she says, trying to sound optimistic, even while biting her lip. She's never been good at concealing her emotions from her face. "Those three weeks will come and go and I'll be back with some hilarious stories and ridiculous family photos before you know it. And then I will be _all yours_ for the rest of summer. Promise," she smiles pure love and it reaches her beautiful brown eyes, which involuntarily makes him mirror the gesture just as brightly.

She was his and she'd be back. That would be when he'd tell her his biggest secret, the only real secret he'd kept from her. The physical distance next semester would be enough to overcome, he didn't want anything else to separate them.

* * *

They were there for at least an hour before she realized Tyler wasn't coming, which was total bullshit. It was his usual spot, he was there almost every night with Reid at the pool tables in the back. Even Aaron Abbot and his friends were there. Tonight of all nights, predictable Tyler chose to be mysterious.

Gabi finishes her cigarette after a couple tentative and inexperienced puffs. She didn't even smoke, she just wanted to walk away with an excuse for a few minutes. Of course that backfired when her dates' friend Mike who _was_ a smoker followed her out. Her pretense became obvious to him when she bummed one off him instead of carrying a pack of her own like any smoker, but he was either too polite or disinterested to call her out.

They had only been outside a few minutes, but it was awkward, tense, and they barely spoke. They'd only met that night, so they had virtually no commonalities to talk about. Yet it was still more enjoyable than being around her own date _Ethan? Evan?_ because at least there were no expectations.

The guy Penelope set her up with was nice and respectful, paid her tab for the night despite his working class origins, had good teeth and was more handsome when he smiled, but he talked about himself a little too much, so she wrote him off. Perhaps he wasn't aware he was doing it. If she'd told him about her observation, maybe he would have been willing to work on it, but she wasn't interested so it didn't matter. She took advantage of a sweet guy who was into her for some drinks. And to make her ex-boyfriend jealous. Mostly the latter, but Tyler wasn't even there so the whole purpose of the evening turned into a complete waste of time.

Mike butts his cigarette out, disappears through the back door and rejoins the group inside. After lingering outside a few moments longer to make a quick phone call, Gabi follows him in and sulks at the table. Mike's taken one of the wooden straight back chairs, turned it around, and straddled it to face the table as he speaks.

The group make a few jokes about Mike being the poster boy for emphysema, lightly touch on politics and philosophy and discuss upcoming summer plans. Normally, Gabi is the one who monopolizes the conversation for quite a time without interruption, but she's too distracted to engage much.

Penelope takes note of her best friend's behavior: how she's sitting back, sulking with her arms crossed. Not really participating in the conversation despite several attempts at including her. How she's been deflecting every question thrown her way.

The guys probably assumed she was either shy or maybe a little socially awkward, but she knows her better. She excuses herself to the bathroom, saying she's going to pee herself if she doesn't go right then and there, dragging Gabi behind her by the arm. The girls weave through the crowd like Gabi is some kind of celebrity with her bodyguard. There's a line out the bathroom, so they find a dark corner to talk instead.

"Listen, I know you're bummed Tyler didn't show, but surprisingly I think Mike and I are kinda vibing. I mean I've always thought he was cute, but I never took him up on his advances. He's actually kind of... awesome to hang with. So please be a wing-woman? We'll work on Tyler later," says Penelope, once they're out of anyone's earshot.

"Um... I'm actually getting picked up... _by_ Tyler. I called him when I was outside. He sounded like he was busy with Reid, but I gave him this ridiculous sob story and told him my date dug out on me. He's on his way to give me a ride home."

"Really?" Penelope is instantly surprised and doesn't even know how to respond at first. "You're just going to bail? That's fucked up. I set this whole double date up for _you_ and you're going to leave me hanging?"

Gabi knows she's kind of selfish and a flake, but she can't help it. She feels bad, but not enough to keep her from leaving. Plan "A" bombed out, so welcome to plan "B". Wasn't it better to cut the evening short rather than string her poor "date" along anyway?

There's a frown on her face as Gabi cries out "I'm sorry!" which she genuinely means, but she's still not staying. She knows there's no real spite to Penelope's words―nothing that would truly hurt their friendship―just disappointment, but Penny would brush it off the next day like they both do when the other would be a crummy friend.

Penelope is not above begging a few times, tries asking her friend to reconsider, even tries to entice her with promises of marijuana and alcohol to lighten the mood for everyone, but Tyler's text comes in saying he's waiting out front.

"Fine, go," she says to Gabi, though she's focusing on herself in the reflection of some vintage wall decor, coming her fingers through her hair, feeling the soft brown curls running around them. "At least say goodbye to the Mike and Eli. Don't just disappear and make things weirder."

The girls walk back to the table, arm in arm. The music's switched over to a new genre: '90s alternative. The dated shit Kemp listens to on repeat, _way_ too loudly. Speaking of which, her sister was the perfect excuse. Everybody in town heard about what happened. Gabi walks right to the empty chair, grabs the cardigan draped around it and shoves her arms into it.

"Hey guys, I'm _really_ sorry to do this, but a family emergency came up. My sister got home from the hospital a few hours ago and she's having a relapse. I should go be with her."

Elijah immediately asks if she needs anything, including a ride home and Mike confirms she's doing the right thing saying, "family first". The lying feels worse considering how understanding they're being. Gabi assures them she has a ride, even goes as far as saying it's her dad who's outside waiting rather than Tyler Simms and kisses both boys on the cheek saying how nice it is to meet them.

Penelope shouts "tell your _dad_ I say hi" as she eyes her friend's departing backside knowingly, thinking how ballsy it is having your ex pick you up from a date with another guy.

* * *

Caleb showered, then practiced his speech in the mirror while he shaved. He imagines the look on his family's faces, the emotional gleam in his mother's eyes, and how proud of him they'll all be when his name is called and he strolls across the stage to take his place at the podium. He will look over the audience, and when he spots his family he'll give them a subtle gesture of acknowledgment. He will give a wonderful speech, and everyone will applaud and cheer after he's finished.

The speech itself is riddled with every cliche in the English lanuage from similies and analogies to metaphors and idioms. It's about as cheesy as they come, as if he were a motivational speaker pumping his peers up for what's to follow. And the content works―nothing beats a classic―but the delivery feels rather half-hearted and he's aware of how it sounds when he recites it.

He'd gone over it a million times, a million different ways, but he couldn't make the words sound natural. Of course he was looking forward to graduation, but the events of the week were still weighing quite heavily on his mind. It was time for a break, maybe change gears to let his mind settle down and come back fresh. He'd been at it long enough anyway. His face couldn't be smoother if it was covered in coconut oil. At least he'd look good standing up there tomorrow.

He swaps his towel for a pair of running bottoms and a plain black tee, but his feet are still bare and cool against the hardwood floor of his adjacent bedroom. He posts up in bed, propping himself with a few pillows and reaches for the laptop laying haphazardly at the edge.

The Windows welcome screen greets him upon startup and he enters his password to log in. It takes several moments for the desktop to appear so he fiddles with his phone while it loads. The computer wasn't an older one, but the dozens of programs slowed it down and its hard drive was nearly at capacity. He did put a lot of wear and tear into it over the intensive school year. A replacement would do him well for fall, so he adds that to his summer to-do list though he doesn't particularly love shopping.

When he's finally able to navigate the screen, he goes to address something else on the list, something higher in priority. Facebook opens and he uses its search function to locate a specific person. Her account pulls up with ease because of the unique name and their high number of mutual friends, including her sister.

Then he types up a quick message and sends it off to the recipient, asking her to reply as soon as possible. It's concise, almost to the point of confrontational without actually mentioning any specifics. Though he wants to make sure she _knows_ that he's keen to her, he keeps it as friendly as possible, adding the occasional smiley and an exclamation point here or there. He doesn't want to make an enemy straight off the bat. The last thing he needs is more trouble on his hands. Hopefully they can coexist peacefully, that is, if he deems her to not be a threat.

He wonders if she's awake or not and if she'll read it tonight. Most girls are attached to social media at the hip, although he doesn't know her well enough to know what type she is. He wasn't a huge fan himself, he rarely used those types of programs, but here he is chomping at the bit for a response, reloading the page, checking it every few minutes like a desperate high school girl or some creepy stalker. This whole situation was just _weird_.

* * *

 **Author's Note: To my readers, reviewers, those who favorited and followed, YOUDABEST!**


	6. Control What You Can, Confront What You

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **6\. Control What You Can, Confront What You Can't**

* * *

The commencement ceremony has only just begun, but it's already elaborate and beautiful as expected from a school with such scholarly reputation and prestige. A true celebration for the students who have worked so hard for their achievements as well as the families and faculty who helped guide them on the journey.

Provost Higgins, in a gray suit and a tie—eggplant in color with little white dots, like milky dewdrops or un-melted snowflakes scattered on it—looks almost handsome. Their principal begins with a quintessential excerpt from Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken". It has nothing at all to do with the graduating class of seniors, but serves as kind of an umbrella speech for the importance of each decision they make going forward. The following remark about a part of their lives being over is bittersweet. All the girls cry while some of the boys smile or laugh forcibly. Next he boasts that fifteen percent of them has over a 3.9 GPA and closes with stressing how proud he is of such an academic class.

Teachers take turns congratulating the class and each one shares what they would like to pass on to the next generation—some words of guidance, a few small thoughts, an elder's wisdom.

Then there is Caleb; an idyllic student and scholastic success with an impressive 4.0. His entrance is welcomed with literal fanfare, as if he were a visiting dignitary. He is modest enough to acknowledge the applause with a humble posture and confidently takes his place at the podium wearing an elegant black robe, trimmed with the school colors of purple and silver. Caleb looks so incredibly handsome in his cap and gown. An undeniable carbon copy of his father circa nineteen-eighty-six.

The crowd quiets so that he might speak and he addresses them, projecting his voice into the microphone so that all could hear him clearly, even in the back row of the substantial gathering.

"Thank you for the opportunity to speak to you as a whole. It is an honor to be given this historic occasion to deliver the valedictorian speech."

Caleb speaks on about how they are all leaving their past behind and creating a new future because they _are_ the future. He urges his classmates to be the best they can be, to dream big, grow their future ambitions beyond what they ever thought possible and enjoy the journey along the way before it becomes a memory.

The scripted bit of his speech is well-crafted and well-delivered, but the moment he breaks away from the formal rhetoric and speaks from the heart, the audience's emotions are turned inside out.

"As our final year at Spenser raced by, I have been astonished by our ability to forget grudges from the past and focus on the present, while enjoying our last year together. I noticed this especially during Spirit Week. As a proud member of the senior team―which _clearly_ dominated," his classmates whoop and holler in agreement while the underclassmen boo.

He chuckles and continues, "I found myself speaking with people I hadn't since first grade. It didn't matter that we once fought over who got to go on the swing first or who got the blue crayon; we were representing our class by wearing the same color. So as far as we were concerned, we were best friends. We discussed things like how to best hold the rope for maximum grip during the tug of war. And though at times the competition became heated, what mattered was that we came together as a grade, putting our differences aside for the sake of that touchdown in flag football."

Caleb pauses, gathers his thoughts a moment, then continues in that voice that gives away how close to getting chocked up he is.

"I know I can't win the fight against time, but I'm going to fight to keep my memories of Spencer and each of you with me wherever I go, no matter how crazy life gets. I'm going to fight to savor my time with friends and family, and to not let the things that matter slip by in the rush of things that don't."

His speech comes to a close and he expresses his gratitude to the crowd with the class and poise of a seasoned socialite. His disposition is confident, commanding, and fittingly charismatic; traits he carries with him at all times that define him as a "golden boy".

When the applause quiets down from the near-deafening roar of praising and shouting, Reid leans towards Tyler and speaks under his breath.

"I bet he practiced dozens of times in the mirror, like those girls in beauty pageants."

His mother discreetly flicks the back of his blond head and scolds "Be nice" in a voice so low that only they could hear.

The other parents chuckle at Reid's expense. His own friends joining in, Sarah being the only one attempting to hide it behind her hand. By the scowl and twitching of his eyebrows, he doesn't share their amusement.

"Violent! I'm glad you all think child abuse is so entertaining."

Kate rolls her eyes and suggests that he not be so dramatic. _Kate_ of all people is on record telling him this.

"Reid's resentful insults are to deflect from the fact that there is entirely _no chance_ of him becoming valedictorian of your class next year," jokes the Garwin patriarch, in all his bearded glory, clasping a firm hand down onto his son's shoulder.

It's no secret that Reid is not exactly Dean's List material, but it bothers him nonetheless, jest or not. In a family that places so much emphasis on status, success and reputation—to the point where it is not only encouraged but expected—whenever his father makes a passive-aggressive remark, it only reminds him how imperfect he is in the eyes of his parents.

Reid, the namesake. Reid, both the eldest and only child. Reid, the fuck up. He'd never had a sibling to help fill the void when he disappointed his parents. As a boy, he'd often wished he had a brother. An older brother who could have been there to share the spotlight, carry the burden and even understand the impact it has had on him.

The other Sons were the closest thing he had. In a way they understood, because each of their families had similar old money mentalities. The type that desire to have a son exactly like Caleb: tenacious, ambitious, and bent on self-improvement. But he wasn't Caleb. No more than he had been yesterday, or the day before. Caleb was another human being, great in ways but not without all the flaws and shortcomings that each person on this earth has. So, damn right he was resentful. What was so wonderful about Caleb anyway?

"Being valedictorian doesn't mean much in the college admissions game with today's 'everyone gets a trophy for everything' way of thinking," he huffs, downplaying the title.

It wasn't _that_ impressive. It's not like Caleb was a Nobel Prize winner or member of a national academy. Everyone acted like he was Mensa certified.

Reid can only take so much family friction at a time before he mentally tunes out. The parents talk amongst themselves and with Kate and Sarah in hushed voices off and on but he isn't paying much attention to the conversation as it doesn't interest him. His mind is somewhere else, far away. Somewhere much more satisfying. The parents are taking everyone out for a celebratory dinner after the ceremony, and all he can think about is what he should order. Perhaps a Steak Oscar that cuts like butter and bursts with flavor. A nice rare one cooked over an open flame. Juicy and tender and gone in a flash.

* * *

Graduation day came and went more quickly than he imagined. All that anticipation and planning and it's all just _over_. As he walked away a newly declared graduate, it was the sweetest, saddest day of his life. It seemed to close a gate upon something in his history. He finally started to recover from the excitement he felt when his name was called and he accepted his diploma with a hand crushing shake from the Provost.

Pogue wasn't the type of guy to get caught up in a moment of nostalgia, but reality was rearing its ugly head whether he welcomed it or not. Fact of the matter was, he wasn't seven years old anymore when he thought summer would never be over and it'd last forever. The ending to that chapter of the story was more imminent than ever and would come sooner than he was ready for. People would be returning to school, except he'd be off to a different one in the fall, leaving all he knew behind. Soon, he'd be swimming in a bigger pond. A part of him wasn't ready to move on yet.

"You look like you're thinking too straight right now."

He's being handed a cup of Macallan 18, poured with a generous, heavy hand. The amber liquid sloshing around like a tiny tsunami in Reid's grip gives away his lack of sobriety. The blond isn't completely intoxicated yet, but Pogue would bet on another hour or two at best before he gets red-faced and volatile at drinking games. He's already looking a little glassy-eyed and he draws out his words with a comical jut of his jaw.

Tyler catches up to them a few seconds later, holding two cups himself and calls out to the remaining member of their foursome who's a few meters away, talking with some girls from the swim team. Caleb holds up a hand to let him know that he'd been heard, but to hang on a second as he was in the middle of a conversation. Reid snatches the cup from Tyler's hand and holds it out, calling the valedictorian over himself, a little more aggressively.

"Yo Casanova!" he yells, impatient as ever, demanding as ever. "Come have a drink. I'm sure these beautiful ladies won't mind if we steal you for a bro-ment."

Caleb looks vaguely annoyed at the rude interruption, but maybe just a little relieved to escape the wanton advances of girls trying to get their last chance at a departing Son of Ipswich. They were nice enough girls; smart, funny, pretty and he had a few things in common with some of them, but they all tried _way_ too hard. It was painfully obvious and at the risk of being cocky, one hell of a turnoff. He wasn't like Reid: easy to impress with mediocre standards. His indifference seemed to make the girls stick to him like hot caramel even more so.

He excuses himself, apologizing on his friend's behalf for his brashness and joins the boys, taking the cup into his hands. He's the first to speak once he identifies the brownish-yellow liquid forced on him.

"There a reason why we're drinking scotch?"

Pogue sniffs the alcohol, taking a nice, deep whiff and instantly recoils like a miniature fist just reached up and punched him square in the nose.

"Because gentleman drink scotch," Reid says, in an almost accent like he is trying to act European or something. "We're not getting trashed off sugary girly drinks like Mike's Hard Lemonade or Smirnoff Ice tonight. They're pathetic. It's a special occasion so we're celebrating in style. Now don't do a disservice to the fine scotch you're holding and enjoy it with us."

"The fine scotch you've poured into a red plastic cup," Pogue laughs, never missing an opportunity to give shit to his cockiest friend. Something else he was going to miss.

"Pardon me sir, for not carrying my Waterford tumblers around with me at all times."

The guys throw jokes and sarcastic witticisms around a bit more before Reid yells over them and shuts them up with a short but surprisingly sentimental toast. Well, for Reid. The four tap their cups together and sip. It starts with a buttery taste, but the aftertaste is warming rather than sharp or bitter. That burn you get with cheap liquor is absent.

"Pretty smooth, right?" Reid asks, excited to finally have his brothers share a drink with him.

Now all they need to feel even more sophisticated would be some premium cigars and pipes. Maybe a few smoking jackets.

Tyler's loving every drop of it, sucking it down like it's water. Even going as far as to tap the bottom of the cup with the flat of his left hand to get every last bit. Baby Boy's always had a taste for hard liquor, a more refined palate. Pogue states the obvious, that he's more of a beer guy. Not that he's knocking it.

"Yeah, not bad," Caleb says with a smile. "How'd you get your hands on it anyway?"

"Dad gifted it to me after dinner."

"Nice gift."

"Yeah, well, you know my dad."

Caleb nods his head in understanding. That was one thing he and Reid shared exclusively between them. Though Evelyn drank out of loneliness and fear. Whereas for Joseph Garwin, it was sheer enjoyment. The older man always had a glass of whiskey or wine by him, almost like a lucky charm. And he drank brandy and champagne both at lunchtime and dinner. It wasn't that he was drunk every day, but was drinking all the while. A functioning alcoholic like all the best millionaire businessmen.

At times it was embarrassing for Reid. For instance, when his father would harmlessly but blatantly hit on every female he brought around. The man was known to love his women and his expensive liquor. But that was his father, and Reid did love him despite his indulgent lifestyle.

Suddenly, something in the air shifts, like a pressure drop before a storm. Reid feels a prickle across his skin, similar to the feeling before lightning strikes. It's not exactly a natural occurrence, but it's a feeling he's now come to be familiar with. A feeling they've only recently pinpointed to a certain short brunette with an odd name that rhymes with an illegal plant.

His wide blue eyes search the crowd in the general vicinity he feels the power emit from. His brothers next to him are doing the same. If it weren't for the gravitational pull of that energy calling to them, they would not have been able to find Waldo in a sea of nothing but Waldos.

They're in a flattened out part of the Dells that forms the shape of a pit filled with coeds socializing over drinks and scattered conversations. There's an astounding amount of girls with long, dark hair. Reid spots the one in question at the other end of the clearing, like two poles in a unique magnetic field. And she appears to be arguing with her younger sister.

"Is she using right now?" Pogue asks.

"Seems that way," says Reid. "My question is, why only after she went missing did she start using so heavily?"

"My guess is she ascended," Caleb answers. "Power before ascension is too slight to detect."

"But she's not eighteen yet. She's in their grade," Pogue motions to Reid and Tyler.

"We can speculate all we want, but she's the only person with answers. Did she ever respond to your message?" Tyler asks Caleb, nudging his chin in the direction of the girl in question, to which Caleb responds that she has not.

"That little indicator that shows a message has been read hasn't even moved."

"Time to do a little recon then," says Reid, discarding his cup by dropping it inside the one in Tyler's hands.

He's got a look of determination on his handsome face that reminds Caleb of trouble and the self-assured smile of someone who has spent a lifetime having his way with the opposite sex. If anyone can get a female alone and comfortable enough to speak candidly, it's him. He doesn't wait for anyone to stop him and roughly shrugs out of Caleb's grasp when he begins to.

It's like a damn obstacle course consisting of a series of impediments in the form of frat boy wannabes and body con skirt experimentation. People continuously block his way either accidentally or purposefully: to reminisce over the school year, to confront him about some personal issue that was probably one-hundred percent warranted, or to flirt shamelessly, unapologetically and openly. Reid normally loved socializing, it's just not the ideal time, but intoxicated people don't take hints.

By the time he makes his way over to her—Gabi now long gone—she's bent _way_ over, fishing a drink out of one of those extra large Igloo coolers that could store a body. Speaking of body, he can't help notice with glittering eyes that she's been hiding one hell of a butt. Despite being a pretty small girl, her legs are long in proportion to the rest of her. Her thighs aren't that thin, but there's a ton of shape in those legs from the bit visible from that angle. The kind of legs you could sink your teeth into and suck on for a day.

"Are you just going to stand there like a creep and watch me all night or did you come to get something?" Kemp asks without even turning around.

If she's not using, he doesn't know how she did it. He was almost positive that he hadn't made any obvious sounds that the music and background noise around them couldn't drown out. Then she goes and calls him a creep which is totally uncalled for. The first and only person to call him that name. Well, shit. Sue him. Witch or not, he's still a teenage boy riddled with hormone-driven intensity of lust and an inherent problem of trying to pick up girls. A tiger doesn't change its stripes.

"I came for a Sam Adams, but I have to admit... I got a little _distracted_ by something I like better."

"Here," now kneeling, she holds two bottles up to him. "Luckily for you, everybody else and their cousin drinks these. There's no shortage." She hates Sam Adams. It's too bitter and dark to enjoy.

Reid's excuse to linger is long gone and Kemp is still elbows deep in sloshy ice. The door repeatedly falls closed on top of her. It amuses him a little. He finds another reason to stay.

"Let me help you out," Reid adjusts the beers to fit in one hand and leans over her, stretching his free arm out to prop the cooler door fully upright.

It enables her to dig for whatever she's so fervently in search of. She looks down, seeing that her hands are rigid. She stretches them out before her. They're shaking. It's not from the cold, but from her bitch sister who dampened her mood. You'd think a near-death experience would put what matters into perspective, but humans are, by nature, a self-centered bunch and Gabi is no exception. That girl really knew how to push buttons and found obvious joy in it, which upset her further. The anger coursed her veins, feeding that disturbing sensation she's been having off and on since the "accident" as her mom calls it. The one where nerves tingle and burn all over her body and everything suddenly feels right in the world. The one that scared the shit out of her.

She needed a drink to calm her anxieties and quiet her overwhelming mind. Not a ladylike concept by any means, but she badly needs a drink. No, she needs more. Much more. Just not a shitty Sam Adams.

"All that trouble for a Blue Moon," he grins when she stands moments later, drink in hand.

He's trying to be cute, trying to engage her in fun repartee. Like a good girl, she doesn't take the bait. Whatever reason for the sudden interest, she knows it is not genuine. There's something he wants—most likely sex-related—and she doesn't care to discover what ulterior motives lurk behind the empty charm. She already knows exactly who he is: the arrogant skirt-chaser who revels in his chauvinist filth and prances around like he thinks he has swagger. The kind of guy who spews revolting pick-up lines to girls severely lacking in self-esteem. It's the equivalent of preying on the weak which is so vile. If he were honest with his intent she could at least have respect for his game. But no, he was _that_ kind of guy who sweet talks and makes false promises.

There's also the way he regularly acts like he is above all, better than everyone else. To an extent, all his friends come off that way, but he is definitely the worst of the bunch. Then his best friend turned butt buddy Tyler Simms took a page out of his book in the manner in which he treats his girlfriend. He threw her sister away like she was just trash and played with her emotions like she was a toy. Siblings fight, and Gabi may be a total and complete brat at times, but nobody messes that giant brat except for her.

Though she doesn't vocalize any of what she thinks of him. Just keeps that crap inside. There's no use because people like him don't change and it doesn't matter because it doesn't directly affect her. She simply thanks him; polite and cordial and goes to leave him there, but he keeps step with her like an unwanted pair of old shoes, pestering her with inane drivel that seems entirely pointless. Small talk was never her best skill trait. Especially with people she didn't like.

The alcohol in Reid is starting to kick in, stirring the aggressive drunk inside of him. Not quite to the point of belligerence, but his advances are more forward and a bit pushy. He tries to flatter her by saying nice things about her appearance, but she's having none of the unsolicited attention. With complete disinterest written on her face and a tone to match, she makes her feelings clear.

It's hardly the reaction he is expecting and he's a bit confounded by the very concept, but quickly covers it with the trademark smirk that is known to drop panties faster than diamonds. The more she deflects him, the harder he tries. Because looking like he does, he's not used to rejection.

"Let's hang out sometime," he says, confident and direct. There's no question to it. No room for debate.

Normally, when those words leave his lips, it doesn't send prospects running in the other direction. And it definitely doesn't prompt a response like hers.

"Swipe left. We're not a match."

"Wow," he scoffs in indignation. Sure, she was right that they aren't a match, but to hear it so bluntly is a challenge to his ego as the girl basically just admitted to not finding him attractive. _Him_. Reid mister-steal-your-girl Garwin. Is she delusional? "You're kind of a bitch."

With the fact that he just swore at her, she fires back in equal intensity, no holds barred.

"And you're an immature fuckboy who only cares about getting laid and can't handle dismissal."

"Don't flatter yourself, sweetheart. I'm not looking for sex," his reply comes harsh and loud. "Besides, you're not really my type either."

Now he's purposefully being extra dickish in response to her calling him unattractive. Who is she to reject him? The bitch might have a nice face, but that won't necessarily turn his head in a crowd. Privately he thinks she is all wrong: doe eyed while he prefers those come-hither bedroom eyes, moss green in color while he likes blue. The bluer the better. And undoubtedly the kind of girl whose expectations of a date is to pick her up at home, shake hands with her father before being interrogated for half an hour, then take her to a nice dinner, followed by a kiss on the cheek. Too high maintenance for little gain. So no, definitely not his type.

"Kemp," Caleb appears between them to diffuse the argument brewing. "I'm not sure what came out of his mouth so far, but I apologize on his behalf for any offense he's caused."

The guys eye each other with matching "what the hell are you doing" looks. Reid mutters something and excuses himself before he says something that might get him into more trouble because he's got a fucking arsenal of insults at the ready to unload on both of them. It's tempting to stay and use them, but he'll save it for another time. There's two ice cold beers in his hand and he plans to go pour them both down his throat. Beer doesn't admonish him. Beer doesn't boss him around. Beer sure as hell doesn't call him an ugly creep.

Kemp appreciates that Caleb apologized for his friend's behavior, and more so for chasing the blond nuisance away altogether. At a loss of what else to say, she simply thanks him and makes to walk away before things get too unbearably awkward.

However, Caleb seems to want to talk and it confuses her because they aren't close but she's polite enough to indulge it momentarily. He's good at it too, the dreaded small talk. Better at it than she is by a wide margin. It comes across so painfully fake in her attempts, which is why she typically avoids it. Kemp always had a hard time biting her tongue, even as a child and grew up doing little to curb her sass. But with Caleb being so... _nice_ , it seems only natural to respond to his politeness in kind despite her irritation with his friend. Rudeness towards her is repaid with rudeness and on the same token, if shown respect, she will reciprocate it indefinitely.

After a few minutes the tension diminishes. They've made their way to a quieter spot slightly away from the main party. They chat about graduation. He shares his plans for the fall—it's not at all surprising to her that a Danvers would attend Harvard—but his declaration gets her to open up about her own desire to pursue a degree at an elite college, study abroad and ultimately become a software developer, which thoroughly surprises him.

At this point Caleb is genuinely interested in her career of choice, asks her a little more about that, even shares with her that Tyler plans to attend MIT for Computer Science—something she did not know about the boy who dumped her sister. When he asks her how she is doing following her "accident", she visibly tenses and seems very reluctant to discuss it, but replies with simplicity that she is absolutely fine. Things get uncomfortable when Caleb presses the subject.

"Thank you for your concern, but I think it's a little misplaced. It was a freak accident that happened that was very serious, other than some congestion, doctors gave me a clean bill of health, so, again, I'm _absolutely_ fine."

It's not the ideal time and place for this discussion, but her deflecting and unwillingness is wearing on him so he asks her point blank, "You mean other than congestion and your powers, right?".

* * *

 **Author's Note: This ended up longer in length than I shot for, but I guess readers like that right? Where I ended it is lame, but I couldn't visualize it any other way without doubling length. I feel like what follows should be a whole separate chapter as I want to move forward after Kemp's had time to digest Caleb's confrontation. What did you think? Any thoughts or predictions on the next chapter? Please let me know with some feedback and also make sure to check out and support my other Reid/OC story "Moonspell". That guys got more than he can handle lol I can't wait to get into the romance aspect!**


	7. Waking Nightmare

**RUNEMASTER**

 **Rating 》 T-M for Profanity, Adult Situations, Violence and Sexual Content**

 **Pairing** **》 Major Reid/OC & Minor Tyler/OC**

 **Disclaimer 》 Fandoms, canons, music, references and source material are not mine, but this plot is. No monetary profit made.**

 **Author's Note 》 For fanart, fanmixes and fanvids, go to hapadoll,wixsite,com** **/hapadoll (replace , with . )**

* * *

 **7\. Waking Nightmare**

* * *

It was clear from a few key phrases along the lines of, "I don't know if you guys are messing with me," "you all are crazy," and "stay away from me," that the confrontation didn't go over as well as they had hoped for. The entire conversation was disastrous and terrifyingly brief, like drunk sex in the back of a frat house. And there's a good chance there won't be a repeat of it.

Had they freaked her out with their announcement, offered too much information too soon? The kind of information that would make any normal person's head spin into a dizzying haze of emotions and eyes pop like a cartoon character who just discovered love at first sight; the "Ahooga", nerve-wracking, heart-thumping, palm-sweating, stomach-sinking kind.

To their knowledge, they weren't telling her anything she didn't already know, so why did she seem to be so clueless, upset and almost _afraid_? The way she recoiled you'd think Caleb smacked her.

"Fuuuck... she has absolutely _no_ idea what we we're talking about," realization dawns on Pogue, who desperately wants to relive the past five minutes for a do-over to try it all one more time in a more delicate, walking-on-a tightrope made of eggshells way. "We totally freaked her out. She couldn't get away from us fast enough. Probably thinks we're part of some psycho cult."

He fists both hands into his long, dirty blond hair. Their hold tightens like a punishment for exposing their secret and breaking their sacred covenant. Generations of careful and deliberate silence and solitude undone in one fell swoop. He looks ready to pull his hair out in clumps, trichotillomania style.

The uncertainty in Caleb's dark eyes give away that he too is deeply disturbed about how everything transpired—he is just as surprised and puzzled as the rest of them—though he doesn't allow himself to get frazzled by it. Not outwardly at least. He can't waver, not with the others looking to him for answers.

Confusion doesn't even begin to describe what Tyler's feeling, because he is absolutely sure of his observations. Caleb and Pogue don't want to doubt him, but they have to be objective and realistic too. There is no sixth family. Females don't inherit the power.

"You need to be one-hundred percent sure of the accusation you are making," Caleb reminds him in case he forgot the first time he said that.

"It isn't an accusation if it's true," challenges Tyler, squaring his shoulders like a man who really means business. "We already told you what we _both_ saw with our own eyes," Reid nods in agreement, standing with his friend. "There is some kind of power in that girl, whether she knows it or not."

They consider the new perspective. The noise of partygoers and music and all unnecessary distractions melt away into one big, beautiful blur like a camera does when it focuses on its subjects and everything in the background becomes fuzzy, twinkling lights.

Reid's voice is the first to break the silence. When he's nervous or worried about something—which doesn't happen often—but doesn't want anyone to know, his defense mechanism is to insult people or place blame around, usually on Caleb. The other, most visible giveaway, is when he bites his nails. It happens even less often, so for a guy he's got pretty nice nails. They're strong, nicely shaped and don't chip or break away.

"Are we acknowledging that our fearless leader here made a mistake?"

"Shut up Reid," Caleb admonishes with a typical scowl and his trademark all-knowing superiority. "How were any of us to know what she's privy to and what she's not? How is it even possible for her to be completely oblivious to the fact that she's a witch?"

Reid clears his throat. "Maybe she's like Chase. He was adopted, never knew his birth parents, grew up not knowing about his power until it manifested itself fully."

It is as logical an explanation as any, given the circumstances. At this point, they're grasping for straws to understand it, for an explanation, and a solution to keep the situation under control.

"From what Gabi's told me about her family, they're their parent's biological children," adds Tyler, recalling that one time when they were first dating, they were talking about their families and Gabi mentioned how her parents had a shotgun wedding with her older sister.

Pogue rejoins the conversation. "Seems like the kind of thing a parent should give their kid a heads up about."

"What reason did her parents ever have to mention it?" Reid plays devil's advocate. "It historically has always passed on to male offspring only. It's not a period. I'm sure her mother had _that_ conversation with her in middle school."

"I appreciate the analogy Reid," Caleb widens his eyes in an exaggerated expression. "But uncontrolled magical powers and dangerous supernatural abilities are a little more significant than menstrual cycles. If I had only daughters, I would still tell them about the power regardless. It would be a huge part of their heritage and something they would deserve to know about their ancestors."

Pogue notices a familiar face in the background, one that puts a smile on his own and a little joy in his heart. His current worries seem to melt away and all he feels at the moment is love and happiness. He waves at her, both as a way of saying sorry for being absent, and as a subtle gesture to his brothers that they need to filter what they say.

"To be continued," Caleb's got a stern look on his face, as if a parent had just caught their child sneaking back home past curfew but they're too tired to think of a punishment until morning. "We'll put this on hold for right now. Let's try to enjoy ourselves a little. We did just graduate, so I'm not going to be the doom and gloom stick in the mud tonight, but we're talking more about this tomorrow. Keep your phones on."

"There you guys are!" Kate immediately presses herself into her boyfriend's side and beams at the other three with excessive enthusiasm and flushed cheeks, a sign that she is beginning to get drunk. "Been looking all over for you fools."

"Gracing us with your presence?" Reid smirks, his blue eyes full of secrets.

"Hi Kate," Tyler gives her a warm smile, grateful for the interlude. God knows he could use a drink to decompress.

"A bunch of us are playing flip cup if you want to jump in on the next round."

Reid nods, gently clapping a hand down onto Kate's shoulder as if to tell her "say no more" and starts to walk back towards the party. "Come on fellas, let's go show the girl how it's done. Baby Boy, you're with me."

* * *

The ride back home is surreal, almost dreamlike. Both in the way her mom is talking about how she's going to take her shopping the next day, and in the lack of complaints from Gabi about having to leave early.

Something had been "off" the moment she woke up in that hospital bed. People have been so unlike their real selves, too accommodating, too _nice_ , and she sure as hell hasn't been herself lately.

Maybe she hadn't ever woken up. It was entirely possible that she was still in a coma, and the past week has all been one extremely lucid dream and instead of it being a cool dream were you fly around and everything's just fuckin' rad, you feel like you've been bitten by a radioactive spider, then you get confronted, _cornered_ by a group of boy band wannabes who accuse you of being an actual witch.

Kemp drowns out the chitter chatter of the other two, along with the music from the car radio—some kind of chart hit is playing, one she'd heard at least three times that night—and stares out the window at the crisp Massachusetts darkness. Her mom sticks to back roads where traffic is quiet and the roads are empty, save for the occasional streetlight which looks more like blurred trails of light as they whiz by.

She can't stop thinking about what Caleb said. It was unsettling and to say it freaked her out would be a major understatement. The entire conversation plays over and over in her mind, and she analyzes the shit out of it in retrospect, but she can't rationalize his words and it's driving her crazy. Was it some bad joke or stupid dare and they're all back at the party having a laugh at her expense? Reid's a complete dick, so she wouldn't put it past him, but it seems out of character for the others to join in on something so juvenile.

What if it was true? Magic? Powers? After experiencing enough oddities on her own, Kemp is almost relieved by the feeling of not being alone. It'd mean, at the very least, that she's not making up the strange events or suffering some kind of neurological disturbance. She quickly dismisses the thought and chides herself for being so silly. It's impossible. Those assholes were messing with her. An early senior prank, and not a very good one.

When they pull up to the house, Kemp is surprised to see the lights on inside, considering her mother is the ultimate Electricity Nazi, the Wicked Witch of the Light Switch. She asks about it and receives the explanation that her father is still in town.

"I thought he was going back home today," Gabi speaks up from the backseat, unbuckling herself.

"He decided to stay another day," their mom is the first to climb out and head up the driveway. "Wanted to make sure you two got home safely."

It was surprising they were allowed to attend a party where there were minors drinking in the first place. Don and Nonnie Berzin were typically laid back about that kind of thing—the whole, "teenagers will be teenagers", progressive parenting types—but after recent events, they've been overly protective and smothering. Hence the rare chauffeur service.

Inside, the girls greet their dad, who is cooking something that smells good and looks suspiciously like junk food instead of the hippie food their mom's been feeding them lately. He's visibly relieved to see his daughters alive and both in one piece. He asks about the party, hoping that they would stay and talk to him for a while.

"Fine," is all Kemp offers.

Gabi, more than likely still buzzing by the redness in her face and the forthcoming attitude, tells him about something funny that happened during a drinking game. He says he doesn't want his daughter to get too drunk and do something she might regret later.

 _Too late, Dad_ , Kemp thinks.

They all need to get their minds off of things, so their mom suggests a movie night to help everyone unwind. It used to be a regular thing for them when the girls were younger. They'd make popcorn and ice cream floats or hot chocolate depending on the season, bring their blankets from their rooms and cuddle up together in the living room. It was one of their nicer traditions and one of her favorite memories. But that's all anything was these days, a memory.

Gabi seems awfully eager, naive enough to believe their parents will get back together when their mom has fulfilled the Eat, Pray, Love phase of her life. Kemp should be enjoying the four of them being reunited, even if only for a few hours, because it's all she's wanted for so long, but she knows the happy family act won't last. When their dad goes back to his apartment in the city, their mom returns to work, and she and Gabi move back into the dorms next fall, everything will go back to their new normal: a family living separate lives. Sometimes pretending to be happy is worse than just being miserable.

"Want Coke floats?"

Gabi accepts Don's offer while Kemp declines, so of course he fixes her one anyway. She rolls her eyes in a playful, oh-brother kind of way. He decorates the heaping mounds of ice cream with a dollop of whipped cream and blend of chocolate-caramel syrup drizzle. He seems more excited about it than she is.

Although she just wants to take a hot shower, relax in bed with her laptop and call it a night, she doesn't have the heart to let her bad mood ruin everyone else's and decides to indulge them. At least it would distract from her thoughts.

"Thanks," she tastes a spoonful. "You guys choose a movie. I'll be right back. Got to check my Facebook real quick."

"These kids and their social media..."

Kemp disappears up the stairs, her mom's words fading as if background noise to deaf ears. In her room, she opens her laptop and powers it on, easing herself into a cross-legged position on the bed next to it. It takes a minute or two, and she uses the time to enjoy her float. It's damn good and indulgent as hell. It almost makes things better. Almost makes her forget all the weirdness happening.

The desktop loads, revealing the background wallpaper of bokeh purple, green and red hues. She opens a browser and pulls up Facebook. She hadn't checked it since being discharged home. There's an overwhelming amount of unread messages and unchecked notifications, most likely well wishes and prayers. She never realized she was that popular or that most people gave a shit. The sentiment is appreciated, but the fuss is more embarrassing than anything.

She sees Caleb's message, skims it over, disregards it, and follows the link to his profile to do a little investigating, but of course is limited by privacy settings. Pogue's page is the same, so she tries Tylers'—the only one of them she is Facebook friends with. She stalks his life but nothing pertinent comes up. Not sure what she's looking for, she's hoping her aimless scrolling and clicking around will yield something useful. Lastly, she checks Reid's page. She removed him from her friends list a while ago, but luckily he keeps his public. Typical for a guy who likes attention, likes to be noticed, and be in the spotlight.

There's a status update from the year prior. It's vague but it catches her eye:

 **Last night was some shittt fro the books hahah! you could say it was magical ;P**

First of all, she wants to go in with a red pen to correct the shit out of his terrible grammar. Second, she's analyzing the use of the word "magical". In _any_ other context, she'd never think twice. It appears to be a harmless synonym for words like "awesome" or "great", but their conversation got her second guessing everything. There's comments under it, but thanks to her farsightedness, the text is comparable in size to that of an ant's ovary.

She puts her spoon in her float, and sets it down onto the flat surface next to the trackpad. Her reading glasses are on the bedside table, where she leaves them every night. When she reaches out, the dip in the bed by the movement causes the glass to tip over. Her first instinct is to reach for it, to stop it from spilling everywhere. And she does, but her hand isn't touching the glass.

Her hand is up, fingers spread apart to catch it, but her reach falls inches short. Its contents—liquidy, melted ice cream—completely frozen still, fucking _suspended_ in mid-air, as if someone pressed the Pause button. With a grand dose of horror and shock, she stares in astonishment, almost paralyzed until a figure in the doorway snaps her out of it, hitting Play/Resume.

"Oh Sweet Moses," her mom doesn't curse often, but she does think fast and grabs a dirty t-shirt from the floor to absorb the spill. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She reacts to Kemp's facial expression, who looks like she might throw up. "Don't worry! It doesn't even look that bad, but we'll take it to a repair shop tomorrow on the way to the mall to make sure there's no water damage."

Kemp ignores everything she says and squeaks out, "Did you see that?".

"See what?" she replies, not sure to what she is referring.

"Nothing..."

Her mother frowns, concern etched into the sides of her mouth and corners of her eyes. "What's the matter with you?"

"I said nothing, I'm fine," she brushes it off, adding a joke to defuse any tension and keep things light. "You're giving yourself crow's feet looking at me like that. Come on, let's go watch that movie."

She needs a distraction to keep herself from sliding into a mental breakdown and ending up in a loony bin with a bunch of other crazies in chains and bars.

* * *

Of course they want to know how she got her power. Was she truly like them? Was it hereditary like theirs? Or was it an entirely new anomaly that was just as inconceivable to them as theirs would be to everyone else? Was she exposed to high levels of gamma radiation like the Hulk? Because following that theory, radiation is considered powerful enough and capable of creating changes in human DNA. However it was obtained, they've established that she is just as clueless about it as they are and not a malicious threat.

"If she isn't aware of her powers that means she's a ticking time bomb that could go off at any time and anywhere," Caleb sighs at the idea, it wouldn't be any good at all. "She could lose it in public and expose herself."

"And how is that our problem? We're not her keepers," Reid's statement is as insensitive as a piece of wood.

Caleb wants to physically take Reid by the shoulders and shake some empathy and common sense into him. He thinks about actually doing it for a second, but instead, explains it in a more self-centered perspective that he might better understand.

"If that kind of power is ever witnessed on a large scale, it's going to cause mass hysteria and we'll be the first ones people point their fingers at to burn at the stake because our last names are synonymous with witchcraft. It will be the trials all over again."

"It's not just that," Pogue shakes his head, all serious now, and adds, "It's not just about us. We can't let an innocent, unsuspecting girl get hurt".

"Of course not," Caleb says positively, as if he'd known Kemp for years and he was going to protect her like one of his own, because nobody deserves to go through something like this alone. Chase didn't deserve it either. If he had someone, maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. His brothers had each other since birth, they didn't realize what a blessing it was. "Nobody's getting hurt. Not her and not us. The bottom line is, we have to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't do anything revealing."

"So essentially the strategy is damage control," says Tyler.

"For now," Caleb nods halfheartedly. "We need to give her some time to process things. I'm sure she's still too freaked out to talk to us again, so don't let her see you, don't interact with her unless she's about to use, then _subtly_ intervene."

"We'll take turns. Not it today," Pogue lazily lifts two fingers, as if raising his hand. "I've got a date with the girlfriend. If I cancel she's going to get suspicious and start following _me_ around," he laughs, shrugging on his jacket.

"Let Caleb show us how it's done," Reid suggests, volunteering him to spend the day being a stalker.

"I've got to help my mom out with some legal stuff for Dad's will," Caleb shrugs, not really sorry. "Sorry. It's you or Baby Boy."

Tyler lifts his head up, looking away from the pages of Chronicles of Paganism, rubbing his eyes to adjust his vision after focusing so intently on the book.

"I was going to spend the day researching, looking through more books, see if I can find anything else we may have overlooked. Unless you want to switch with me."

Ugh. His choices are between homework and actual work.

"Guess I'm stuck babysitting then. I hope she's not doing some boring, girly shit like mani-pedis or hot yoga," he thinks for a moment. "Actually, I could get behind hot yoga."

* * *

Shopping was a distraction: a brainless, relaxing task. A wholly materialistic one that requires little to no mental effort but also keeps your attention on sorting and choosing what items are coming with you, and which are not. Time disappears. The interruption is quite welcome. A merciful break from the trepidation raging inside her.

For a few hours, the stress and worry that now accompanies her life is pushed to the back of Kemp's mind. The greatest concern of her day is what size shoe fits best or what color dress looks good on her fair skin, so she chose a few dark colored ones because it makes her skin look luminescent and glowing, along with a couple camisoles for layering. Gabi ended up with some shorts and sandals, appropriate for summer and the warmer weather. Their mom bought a few things as well, mostly makeup and skincare. She casually asked the lady at the cosmetics counter if her favorite lipstick was in stock, and an hour later her face was covered in twenty new colors.

Overall, it was a good day. No arguments, no drama, no crying, no conflicts and no complaints.

By the time they make it back to Ipswich, it's after five. There are lots of useful, everyday stores in town, but not much variety. For one of those huge, three-story, proper indoor malls, you had to go to Northshore in neighboring Peabody. It was about twenty minutes out and far enough away that you wouldn't run into someone you knew at every turn.

"Shall we get something to eat before we head to the house?"

"Oh my God, yes," Gabi's eyes grow wide, as if she read her mind. "I'm freaking starving!"

Kemp mumbles an "mhm" without looking up. She is too busy playing with her new phone to answer, setting everything to her personal preferences, exploring its new features. It's not the latest or fanciest model, and certainly not the most expensive, but it's an upgrade from her previous one, which was fried and sitting in police evidence lockers for some reason. Unfortunately, it had never been backed up, so her contacts and pictures were lost with it.

"You want Nicky's?"

"No," her ears perk up and her eyes tear away from the little screen in her hands. That's the Sons' usual hangout spot. There's no way she's risking bumping into those fools. Not today, Satan. Today was her theoretical Sunday, day after leg day, day of rest, dammit. "Literally _any_ other place is fine."

"Okay, then I'm going to Clam Box."

It's a local eatery transformed into somewhat of a tourist trap with long lines and jacked up prices. A quaint spot full of New England charm, an easy stop to get dinner and get your seafood fix. Not her first choice with a hangover, but it's better than Nicky's. The car makes a sudden and sharp left turn at full speed towards their new destination, her stomach lurches.

Once everyone orders their food—something light and easy for Kemp—and grabs their drinks, the girls snag a table before they can't get a place to sit, while their mom waits by the pick-up window. She insists on standing as close as possible to the counter just in case she miss the announcement of order numbers over the PA system.

Sat across from Gabi, Kemp studies her sister's face: her skin pale under the fluorescent lights, her eyes like chips of emerald ice, sharp and cold but with her round, rosy cheeks and rosebud lips, she almost resembles a cherub pretending to fire arrows from it's eyes.

She wonders if she should tell her about the other night: what Caleb and his silly followers had said to her, how she feels she's slowing but surely losing her mind and her grasp on reality along the way, unleash the truckload of worries and concerns that's been eating away at her inside, wrap her arms around her and tell her she's sorry that they don't always get along, ask for unconditional support and to say reassuring things like "everything's going to be okay" or "we'll figure this out together".

"So, I had an interesting thing happen last night at the party," she blurts it out as Gabi catches her staring, not knowing a better segue.

"Oh yeah?" she asks, raising her eyebrows. "More interesting than disappearing in the woods for a week?"

Kemp laughs, but it's a short, abrupt laugh, more of disbelief than humor. "I just had a weird run-in with Tyler and his friends. They cornered me and accused me of being... telepathic." Not exactly what happened, but sugar coating it is better than nothing.

"That is weird," Gabi says. "That is really weird!" She repeats that phrase a few times. Kemp was hoping for something a little more helpful than that. "People around here are superstitious. They don't think they are, but they are. It's all bullshit, you know?"

"I guess," she sighs with a shrug.

"I'm just surprised. I didn't think Tyler bought into all that hocus-pocus crap, especially considering his own family history."

"What about it?"

She knows some of the stories, the basics, but not all of them. There are rumors aplenty about the four founding families.

"Let's see," Gabi taps her finger on her chin in thought. "I asked him about it once—the whole Witches of Ipswich thing. His ancestors were suspected of witchcraft, but so were most people in those days. He said they're just a bunch of nonsensical stories, nothing but fear mongering and a lot of scapegoating."

"Well yeah," Kemp leans forward a bit and lowers her voice as if afraid of being overheard, even there, over the deluge of chatter. "But all that witch stuff... don't you think it's poss—"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite pair of legs," a certain blond cuts her off, coming seemingly out of nowhere and she nearly jumps out of her skin. He smirks at her obvious shock and gestures to the two of them. "Isn't this a nice surprise?"

"No," the sisters reply in unison, each for their own reasons.

"Ladies, you are nothing if not honest," Reid chuckles and slides into the seat next to Kemp, pushing her handbag out of the way, their knees bumping under the table.

It forces her to rethink what she was about to say, realizing how crazy it would sound, how there's no way it wouldn't be terrible and awful and many other negative synonyms. So in a strange way, she's thankful for his actions, despite how rude and intrusive they are.

"Can we help you?" Gabi follows it up with a raised eyebrow.

His sarcastic side wants to come out and say, "Well, I don't know, _can_ you?", but thankfully his more tactical self takes over.

"I saw you guys over here and I wanted to take this opportunity to make sure things were copacetic between us."

In reality, he wants Kemp to shut her mouth and stop talking about witch-related matters, but that's not an acceptable thing to say out loud.

"And why would they be, Garwin?" Gabi snorts in disbelief and holds the gaze on his glacier-blue eyes, like she's been wanting to say this to his face for a while. "You guys have been acting like complete psychos lately."

"Gabi," he claps his hands together and points them towards her in an exaggerated apology. "I'm sorry about the public way I told you Tyler wanted to break up. It's not his fault. He wasn't feeling it, and that's okay. I just didn't think it was right to string you along so I ripped that Band-aid off. I'm not sorry I did it, but I am sorry for the way I went about it."

He turns to Kemp, touching her shoulder with the back of his hand. She looks down at his hand and frowns at him as if to say "Why are you touching me", but he ignores it and proceeds with his apology.

"And Kemp, I'm sorry about last night. We were all drunk and being stupid," he reasons, but it's not an explanation and it doesn't make her feel better. "So, are we cool now?"

"Yeah, okay, whatever you say," Gabi rolls her eyes, waving a hand dismissively at him.

Kemp has questions, however. You don't say something that elaborate and specific to somebody and then dismiss it as a drunken faux pas. She begins to question him but is cut off by her mom who chooses that moment of all moments to come back with the food. She subtly rolls her eyes under half-closed lids so nobody notices. She's getting real sick of being interrupted and it feels like nobody's listening.

Reid introduces himself and wastes no time charming the pants off her just like he does everyone else he meets. He makes the whole, "I didn't know you had another sister" comment. She freaking _blushes_ and tells him to call her Nonnie since "everyone else does" and invites him to stay and eat with them despite warning glares from Gabi. Politely, he declines, saying he has a prior engagement and must skedaddle. He doesn't use that exact word, but he may as well because everything else he says is just as corny and over the top.

After thinking about it for a few moments, Kemp decides to get up and follows him out. He hasn't gone far, just around the corner, walking at a leisurely pace, as if he owns time.

"That apology was bullshit," she calls after him, getting him to turn around. "You said sorry in a general sense, but not for making all that crazy stuff up." She doesn't know if she wants him to apologize more specifically or look her in the eyes and tell her it's all true, every last insane bit of it. "Last night after I went home... I-I witnessed the defying of _gravity_ , against the law of physics and dynamics and everything rational."

"I don't know what you want me to say," he furrows his brow, genuinely bothered by the despair in her eyes, which is quite hard to see if he's being honest.

Caleb was right. They had each other. She had no one to walk her through this.

"I just want the truth."

He steps towards her and asks, "Are you going to run screaming through the street?"

When she shakes her head, he lets his eyes flash black as a pit of tar long enough for her to get a good look at them. And she does, right before she throws up at his feet.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I would love some feedback. Thanks to the readers for keeping up with this story, and an even bigger than you to all those who have "followed" Runemaster, added to your favorites, and have taken the time to review! "Guest", I agree, I like slightly volatile relationships lol they add some spice to life. Also, anybody who enjoys Runemaster might want to check out my other story Moonspell :)**


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